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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



















LEM ALLEN 











LEM ALLEN 


BY 

WILLIAM PINKNEY LAWSON 

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BONI AND LIVERIGHT 
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 


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COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY 
BONI AND UVERIGHT, INC. 


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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


SEP 13’23* 

©C1A71188 8 ; A 

'H f 



TO 

MY FATHER 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Arrival of Allingham . i 

II. Danger Ahead. 8 

III. The Practice Interview. 16 

IV. A Friendly Game with Cards .... 26 

V. The Golden Nuggett. 34 

VI. The Psychic Moment. 45 

VII. In Rout. 52 

VIII. A Touch of Nature. 63 

IX. Night Life in St. Johns. 72 

X. Perils by the Way. 78 

XI. The Outlaw Unmasked. 88 

XII. Going South with Dingbat. 99 

XIII. Almost but Not Quite.109 

XIV. Hospitality a la Daggett.119 

XV. Alma.126 

XVI. A Matter of Subsistence .135 

XVII. Allingham Has Ideas .146 

XVIII. Hazards of Success .157 

XIX. Luck Leaves the Scene .167 

XX. The Rescue Party.175 

XXI. An Interrupted Raffle .183 

XXII. Allingham’s Debut.194 

XXIII. A Sound of Revelry.204 

XXIV. Love and War.210 

XXV. Knots Begun to Loosen.220 

XXVI. The Claim Jumpers.229 

XXVII. The Smiles of Fortune.237 

XXVIII. All’s Well that Ends.245 

vii 






























Chapter I 


ARRIVAL OF ALLINGHAM 

T HE first glimp I got of Allingham he was approach¬ 
ing the ranch house afoot, dragging along slow like 
he was plumb beat. At the moment he didn’t look 
like much of an event. I didn’t even know it was him — I 
thought it was a hobo. But when he drawed nigh where 
I was setting on the kitchen steps, peeling spuds for supper, 
I saw right off he wasn’t no tramp. He was too uppity. 

“ Hello! ” he calls out cheerful, before I could say some¬ 
thing. “ Is this the Bar T cattle ranch? ” 

I was about to answer him sharp — the way he started 
asking questions thataway without any pelimminery 
manners; but just then I noticed that his smile was kind of 
strained and he had black rings under his eyes and seemed 
right peakid beneath the layer of alkali that covered him. 
So I didn’t say nothing only, “ You guessed it the first time, 
Stranger! ” 

He looked pleased, kind of, and come back: “ I want to 
see John Arnold — he’s owner of the outfit, isn’t he? ” 

“ How far did you say you walked today? ” I asked. 

So he smiled bitter. 

“ Around two hundred miles, I expect. I started walking 
at Las Vegas, where the Santa Fe trains hesitate now and 
then.” 

“ Vegas is thirty mile from here,” I says, “ but you’ll 
have to hike consid’able further if you want to talk to Mr. 
Arnold. He’s gone East — to Denver.” 

i 


2 


LEM ALLEN 


Well, the feller looked right disappointed. Then all of 
a sudden he begun swaying back and forth like he was going 
to fall, so I jumped up and grabbed him and eased him 
down on the porch and went in the kitchen and poured 
out a cup of coffee. 

“ Here, swaller this! ” I says. “ It’s agin the rules of 
the ranch for fellers to run in and drop dead ’less’n we get 
their names first.” 

He swallered the coffee and give a right feeble grin. 

“ My name’s Allingham,” he mutters; “ but I don’t intend 
to leave my corpse for a calling card this trip.” 

So then I shook hands with the feller because I was sorry 
for him, kind of. But still I didn’t have no idee at all that 
this puny-looking critter was to be a subsequent pardner 
of mine. 

“ I’m called Lem Allen,” I says, “ and I’m cook for the 
outfit, temporary. It ain’t a situation I’d pick from choice 
but I drawed a busted leg in the last round-up and couldn’t 
do no more riding for a spell, so that’s how come they wished 
the job onto me. And now it seems like I can’t get shut 
of it nohow.” 

Allingham shook his head a time or two like he was 
sorry for me. 

“ What all is your business,” I asked, “ if I ain’t overly 
inquisitive? ” 

He looked sort of hacked for a minute, then laughed 
short. 

“ I’m afraid I haven’t found my real vocation yet — 
though something tells me I’m on the edge of learning what 
I’m good for.” 

“Well! ” I says interested. 

“ Yes,” Allingham goes on, “ because while I’d rather 
starve than walk back to Vegas, yet on the other hand I’d 
rather work than starve. Whereabouts is your foreman? ” 


ARRIVAL OF ALLINGHAM 


3 

I glanced at the sun which was dropping slow behind the 
Pecos range to westward. 

“ He ought to be in right soon — it’s nigh chuck time.” 

Just then I seen a wisp of dust on the far edge of the north 
mesa. 

“ Yonder he comes now, I reckon. They’ve been brand¬ 
ing today. You’d best wash up and rest a spell before 
supper, whilst I stir up a batch of dough.” 

So that’s what this Allingham done, and nobody said 
nothing when he set down to the table later nor when I 
split my bedroll with him for the night, because it ain’t yet 
got so civilized in New Mexico a stranger can’t figure on a 
meal and a night’s lodging without no grate hurrah raised 
over the affare. 

But holing up for the winter is different, so next morn¬ 
ing Sam Mudge the foreman, a heavy-set, gruff-spoke feller 
which never laughs ’less’n somebody gets hurt right bad, 
looked over at Allingham and says short: 

“ Which way you ridin’, young feller? ” 

“ I’m not riding,” says Allingham, “ alas. I’m only 
walking. And from now on I’m not doing any more of that 
than I can help.” 

Well, when he says this Mudge looked at him right hard, 
because it’s a fact there don’t come no visitors to the ranch 
on their own feet except their hoss is crippled or the car’s 
broke down. Then Mudge begun eating again sarcastic. 

“ I wisht I was rich,” he says. 

“ If you’re implying I am,” Allingham come back, “ you’d 
better forget it; because the only thing I’m rich in at the 
present moment is time. And therefore,” he adds quick, 
when Mudge started to speak, “ I’d be glad to receive 
suggestions as to how I can earn something of more im¬ 
mediate utility than that often overprized commodity.” 


4 


LEM ALLEN 


Mudge looked him over careful and says: 

“ If it’s work you want, young feller, I ain’t one to deny 
the privilege to nobody. Even you. You can join the boys 
this mornin’ and break yourself in. We’re going to make 
fence. Did you ever dig postholes? ” 

“ No,” Allingham says hopeful, “ but I can learn.” 

So Mudge didn’t say no more, only begun to smile right 
cold-blooded the way he does when he’s fixin’ to enjoy 
himself. And directly the boys got through breakfast they 
all started for the new pasture. Nor I didn’t envy Alling¬ 
ham his prospects none, neither. 

If I’d been gifted with the second sight I couldn’t have 
predicted what was going to happen to his feelings better’n 
I done, because when they drifted back at sundown you 
could see plain the new hand had been getting experience. 
He was sort of bent over in the middle and shuffled along 
like it wasn’t easy to lift his feet, and his hands was a sight 
from blisters. But he made out to smile encouraging when 
he seen me and didn’t say much of nothing during supper. 

Nor he didn’t complain none when bedtime come and we 
was alone together; only, after he’d soaked his feet in hot 
water and put a mustard poultice acrost his back and rubbed 
taller into the palms of his hands, he asks careless: 

“ How many postholes does it take to make a fence, 
Lem? ” 

“ It depends some on how long of a fence it is,” I says. 
“ Why? ” 

“ Oh, nothing,” says Allingham. “ I was just wondering. 
I’m naturally of a curious disposition, I suppose.” 

He begun rubbing some more taller on his hands and I 
begun to think why didn’t he say something about being 
a friend of Arnold’s, like he’d let on he was when he first 
come. 


ARRIVAL OF ALLINGHAM 


5 


“ Tell Mudge about it,” I sudgested, after speaking out 
what I was thinking, “ and I wouldn’t wonder if ’twould 
make things easier for you.” 

“ I’d rather stand on my own feet,” he says short-like. 

“ Well,” I says, “ long as your feet lasts you.” Then we 
didn’t say much of nothing for a spell. 

They worked on the fence a week or such a matter. And 
though Allingham was tuckered out when he come in each 
night, he got less crippled as time went on. Nor Mudge 
wasn’t deriving nigh as much pleasure from his sufferings 
as at first. 

So one morning Mudge spoke up and says: 

“ I got a new job for you, young feller — one which takes 
brainwork instead of muscle.” 

Allingham nodded indifferent. It’s funny, Allingham 
never give Mudge no back talk, though I don’t believe he 
was partial towards him for all that. 

So then Mudge says: 

“ They’s a band of twenty or thirty sheep up in the 
foothills to the east, which has got to be drove down to the 
ranch. The Boss bought ’em some time back from a 
Mexican homesteader there so’s to clear ’em off the range. 
I was thinkin’ mebbe you could bring them sheep in.” 

Well, the boys begun winking and snickering amongst 
theirselves, because anyone which has handled sheep knows 
they’re the devil and all to drive, without a dog. But 
Allingham didn’t raise no objections. He just let on he was 
agreeable and asked whereabouts the band was located. 
Then he started out, afoot. 

It was after nightfall when he got back, still afoot, and 
leading one sheep lonesome by his suppenders which he’d 
tied round the critter’s neck. 

All the boys was laughing fit to kill, only Mudge made 
out he was plumb riled. 


6 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Where’d you leave the rest of them sheep? ” he asked 
fierce. 

“ Four or five lie on the trail — dead. I don’t know 
where the others scattered to, but as soon as I can get my 
breath and a repeating rifle I’ll go back and find out.” 

“You’re fired! ” shouts Mudge. 

So Allingham sat down and fanned hisself with his hat. 

“ Your statement lacks news value,” he says to Mudge 
pleasant, “ I knew the gist of it before I’d tried to drive 
those imbecile sheep a hundred yards. They’re morons,” 
he says sad-like; “ they’d never pass the intelligence 
testers.” 

He hove a heavy sigh and the punchers bust out laughing 
louder than ever and Mudge looked like he had half a mind 
to take Allingham to a cleaning. I dunno what all would 
of happened, but just then we heard an automobile horn 
sound impatient from down the road and we all stopped 
to listen. 

Presently we saw the headlights of a car and before we 
could more’n whistle and turn round the Boss drove up and 
stepped out of the car and walked over to where we was 
standing. 

No sooner he got a glimp of Allingham than he stopped 
and says, “Holy Bobcats! ” and then run forrard and 
grabbed Allingham’s hand like he was glad to see him. 

Allingham give a startle and leaned over quick and 
whispered a word or two in the Boss’s ear. Then he spoke 
up and says: 

“ I’m tickled pink to see you, Jack, old sport! Sorry to 
land here while you were gone, but Mr. Mudge made me 
feel quite at home — even let me help the boys a bit now 
and then so I wouldn’t lack exercise.” 

At this the Boss give a frown. 


ARRIVAL OF ALLINGHAM 


7 


“ You shouldn’t have done any work. It’s foolish to take 
chances in the shape you’re in. Captain — er — Ailing- 
ham,” he explains to the bunch, “ was gassed in the war 
and hasn’t got his health back yet. But I’m glad you all 
made him feel welcome in my absence.” 

With that him and Allingham walked off cordial to¬ 
gether and the punchers begun looking at each another like 
they’d been caught stealing eggs. Nor it didn’t seem as if 
Mudge was enjoying the situation hardly at all. If the 
truth was known, I reckon the sheep Allingham had drug 
in was the only one of the comp’ny plumb easy in his mind. 
Because him and the suppenders had gone off to one side 
where the grass was better, and seemed right contented. 


Chapter II 


DANGER AHEAD 


LLINGHAM didn’t give out a great deal of informa¬ 



tion about who he was or where he’d come from or 


what he was aimin’ to do, though I asked him tactful 
every once in so often. He just let on he was engaged in 
traveling at the time, which a fool could see, so I had to 
be satisfied. 

Another thing, Allingham never told the Boss about how 
Mudge had been riding him; but he didn’t coax nobody to 
let him keep on with the light exercize he’d been enjoying, 
however. He just showed up cheerful the morning after 
the Boss come, wearing a smile and some of the Boss’s 
clothes, and for a while afterward him and the Boss didn’t 
do nothing but ride around the ranch looking the country 
over and shooting at jack-rabbits and coyotes when they 
got a chance. 

They was about of an age, seemin’ly — twenty-six or 
eight mebbe, and similar built, being tall and laid out on 
neat lines although Allingham was more prominent in the 
face, especially his nose which looked right important. His 
eyes were green and sort of squinched up sleepy as a rule, 
and he had a real confident-lookin’ set of teeth. Also it 
seemed like he was afflicted with the notion that any time 
he showed them teeth of his’n in a smile everything would 
be all right. 

The Boss was more customary-looking, which was mebbe 
why he appeared to figure Allingham was something put 


8 


DANGER AHEAD 


9 

of the ordinary, a p’int they both agreed on. And then 
finally it got round that the Boss had been in Allingham’s 
comp’ny in the trenches over to France and had saved 
Allingham’s life or Allingham had saved his or something 
and that was why they was so thick. 

Well, things drifted along for a spell till one day the 
Boss come in looking kind of put out. 

“ It's tough,” he says to Allingham; “ just when we’re 
having a good lazy time together, I’ve got to run over to 
Vegas and meet a chap who’s looking at mining claims for 
an Eastern syndicate. May have to stay several days — I 
suppose he thinks I can line up something for him. Why 
don’t you come along, in the car? ” 

“ I’ve seen Vegas once,” Allingham says short. 

So the Boss kind of laughed. 

“ Well, amuse yourself till I get back, if that’s how 
you feel about our county-seat. But you’ve got to promise 
to take things easy — you’ve got to rest and get well while 
you’re here.” 

Allingham was looking at him absent-minded. 

“ Is this a mining country? ” he asks. 

“ Oh,” says the Boss, “ there’s plenty of ore, but it’s risky 
working it. Broken formations — old volcanic action. Yet 
they’ve got plenty of paying properties in the southern part 
of the State — Chino copper, for example, near Silver City. 
And north of there, around Mogollon, are several good 
claims.” 

Allingham didn’t say no more and the conversation died 
out. And presently the Boss drove off in his car. Then 
Allingham begun for to rest. 

The way he done it was to start off early each morning 
and land home around sundown, dog-tired and hungry as a 
wolf. He let on he was sightseein’, though that didn’t 


10 


LEM ALLEN 


sound right reasonable. Because if a feller wanted to see the 
country why should he tucker hisself out examining grazing 
land at close range when he could set on the ranch house 
porch and survey the scenery as far north as the Colorado 
line without moving nothing only his neck muscles? 

I reckon Allingham must of got the same notion, because 
before long he quit riding out and stuck close to home. 
And I figured he was fixing to get that rest. But while he 
used his arms and legs henceforth only enough to keep the 
blood stirrin’, he shore didn’t give his tongue no leisure. 
Which was hard on me, because the rest of the boys bein’ 
away most of the time the greater portion of the listenin’ 
fell onto my ears. And it’s the truth this Allingham proved 
himself a plumb spendthrift with words. 

Finally it got so I couldn’t stand it no longer and I 
plugged up my ears with a couple of frijole beans, and after 
that the patient spent most of his time laying in the ham¬ 
mock reading in books, or writing on a little pad. It used 
to stump me how he could keep the inside of his head 
choused up thataway constant and not come down with a 
fever. So finally I asked him what was the idee of it all. 

“ I’m writing stories for the magazines — humorous 
stories,” he says; “ funny things that happened or might 
have happened to the characters involved.” Then he looked 
up and seen I’d taken the plugs out of my ears so he begun 
to get more pleasure from talking. “ They’re Western 
yarns.” 

“ What do you know about the West? ” I asked him. 

“ Nothing,” he says; “ that’s why I chose it for a back¬ 
ground. If a chap knows too much about the phase of life 
he’s treating he can’t make his description of it cheerful 
and sunshiny enough so the magazines will print it. Which 
is a disadvantage, particularly if he expects to get paid for 
his work.” 


DANGER AHEAD 


ii 


“ Do they pay money for stories like that — about funny 
things happening to people? ” I asked surprised. 

“ Certainly.” 

So that give me an idee. 

“ I believe I’d be willin’ to write some of them yarns if 
they was money in it,” I says; “ I’ve had sev’el funny 
things happen to me. They was the time, f’r instance, when 
a feller down to the Vegas hotel give me a two dollar bill 
thinkin’ ’twas a dollar — ” 

But Allingham looked discouraged and put up his hand 
like to ward me off. 

“ You lack the romantic sense, Lem,” he says, wrinkling 
up his forrid; “you are too matter-of-fact by far. For 
example, you appear to accept all this — this — ” He 
broke off and waved his arm around at the mesa like they 
was something there nobody could see but him. “ In short,” 
he says, “ you seem to take this glorious adventure of 
existence in the large-hearted West as a usual, everyday 
thing, instead of the inestimable privilege it is. Why, man, 
you’ve got no soul! ” 

“ I got no brainstorms neither,” I returnt, kind of riled; 
“ like you got.” 

Then all at once it come to me what was wrong with 
Allingham. He was one of them fellers, I figured, which 
had been raised on movies and dime novels — the kind 
sellin’ nowadays for a dollar six bits and wherein the 
writer sets down a lot of things seen only with his mind’s 
eye and describes the looks and manners of a herd of folks 
observed by means of a convenient device known as a 
optical delusion. 

“ Hah! ” I says scornful. “ The Wild West — that’s what 
you got in your thoughts. Nor I don’t hardly blame us 
Westerners for bein’ wild when we read the yarns and see 


12 


LEM ALLEN 


the fillums made up about us. We could be a whole lot 
wilder yet without no great discredit to our dispositions. 
No foolin’, what somebody’d ought to do is git down to 
earth and make a real intensive tour of this here region, 
getting his information first hand instead of from the 
advantage point of Santa Fe trains. He’d ought to use a 
mikerscope instead of a periscope. Then he’d ought to sit 
down where it is cool and quiet an’ write a novel book about 
the West that would be at least part true.” 

I was getting excited because I knowed I was in the 
right of it, but then I happened to glanse at Allingham and 
stopped off short, because he was staring at me like he 
seen a ghost. 

“The very thing, Lem! ” he says earnest. “You’ve 
got it! ” 

“ What is it I got? ” I asks him curious. 

His face lighted up and he snapped his fingers like he’d 
thought of something pleasant. 

“ We’ll get a couple of horses,” he says brisk, “ and ride 
round among the untutored denizens of the region, setting 
down our impressions as we go — ” 

“ Shucks! ” I busted in. “ I could set down my impres¬ 
sions of the country hereabouts without no need to quit my 
job. And as for denizens,” I says, “ I been hunting the 
hills to northward this long time and I ain’t seen ary 
denizen yet. I believe they’re extinct.” 

But Allingham wasn’t interested in nothing only his idees, 
which was running strong. 

“ On second thoughts,” he says reflectful, “ you’d best 
do the actual writing of our projected work. I suppose you 
can write? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I got a gal in Oklahoma which I’ve 
wrote to once a month for goin’ on three years. She thinks 
I got a right good hand.” 


DANGER AHEAD 


13 

“ I’m speaking of your style,” says Allingham impatient, 
“ not your anatomy.” 

“ Oh, I don’t try much for style here in camp,” I had to 
admit, “ but if I get going on this here trip with my new 
neck-handkercher and boots and the spurs I bought off the 
Boss last winter you’ll be surprised, I wouldn’t wonder.” 

But Allingham looked right disgusted. 

“ Listen,” he says, “ here’s what I mean: if you were 
reading some other chap’s book which would you rather his 
stuff was — entertaining or the kind of drivel that would 
make you want to get up and kick the camp hound? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ it holps a lot to kick that ornery hound 
a good boot once in so often.” 

I says this because I make it a rule not to admit nothing 
in an argyment I don’t rightly know what it’s about. Then 
I seen Allingham was a mite put out on account of me 
getting the best of him, so I says: 

“ Anyways, let’s call it a bargain that I’m to write the 
book you’re speakin’ of. What next? ” 

At that Allingham cheered up and his eyes glissened as 
the idees begun to bubble up agin. 

“ What a plan we’ve hit on! ” he says. “ Romance, ad¬ 
venture — ” 

“ I’ve knowed fellers to get kilt havin’ adventures,” I 
says dubious, but Allingham waved the words off with his 
hand. 

“ An author’s got to be brave and fearless,” he says, 
“ otherwise many of them would be working instead of 
trying to get their stuff printed.” 

“ I ain’t nowise timid if I git picked on,” I says, “but 
I’m naturally cautious unless it is otherwise grately to my 
advantage.” 

So then Allingham looked at me reproachful for a spell. 


14 


LEM ALLEN 


“ What you ought to do, Lem, is to lead the dangerous 
life for a while. Have you forgot your Nietzsche? ” 

“I ain’t never had one,” I told him; “I been right 
healthy so far.” 

He drawed his eyebrows together frowning, which is a 
way he has of laughing when he don’t want nobody to 
know it. 

“ Don’t tell me you don’t know Nietzsche — the singer 
of the superman, the poet of pep and power? Who says 
so eloquently of the dangerous life — ” 

“ I ain’t never been made acquainted with the feller,” I 
says. “ And while I’ve heard tell of the simple life and 
the strenuous life and a life on the ocean wave, I never 
heard about the dangerous life before — although seems 
like almost any kind of life would be dangerous. A feller’s 
always got a right good chance of dyin’ long’s he’s still 
alive.” 

Allingham give a sigh, despondent-like. 

“ We won’t argue the matter, Lem. If you haven’t 
the soul for adventure, if you haven’t the courage to enlist 
with what the great poet calls the ‘ argonauts of the ideal, 
more courageous than prudent and often enough ship¬ 
wrecked and brought to grief,’ we’ll give up the plan I had 
in mind and say no more about it.” 

Well, Allingham looked so downhearted when he says 
this that I begun to give in. I knowed there wouldn’t be no 
grate danger of our being shipwrecked in the places where 
we were going and then the idee come to me that a lot of 
Allingham’s language was just words. Mebbe, I thought, 
being an author wouldn’t be so hazzardous a business as he 
was making out. 

So I says: 

“ Don’t go and get discouraged too quick. When you 


DANGER AHEAD 


IS 

know me better you’ll find I ain’t a feller which won’t take 
a chance. Once in a while. If I kin afford it. Another 
thing, I’m gettin’ plumb fed up on this cook’s job they 
wished onto me. What is the next move after decidin’ to 
throw in with you for me to make? ” 

So Allingham shook my hand cordial and give a right 
nice smile with all his teeth showing. 

“ The first thing is for you to draw the wages coming 
to you from Mudge, while I ponder our project in its 
larger aspects. When you’ve got the money come to me 
and I’ll have a plan all arranged.” 

“ Mebbe I better holp with the plan,” I says. 

“ No,” says Allingham decided, “ you’ll have enough 
to do writing the story of our tour without wearing out your 
brains on how we invest our capital.” 

So I didn’t say no more then, because Allingham can out¬ 
talk me. In the long run. 


Chapter III 


THE PRACTISE INTERVIEW 

O NCE Fd made up my mind to join in with Ailing- 
ham’s plans about leading a dangerous life and 
writing a book and making a hossback trip and 
all, I didn’t waste no time getting started on the pe- 
limminaries. The next morning after our talk I got Mudge 
to one side where I could break the news to him easy, and 
asked him if he knowed where he could get a new cook for 
the outfit. 

“ The woods is full of them,” he says. “ Why? ” 

“ Because I’ve done quit,” I says. 

Mudge looked kind Of hacked but he didn’t say nothing, 
only asked me what for I was leaving. 

“ Well,” I says, “ I’ve decided to be a author.” 

“ A what? ” 

“ A nauthor! ” I says plain. “ I’m going to write a novel 
book. Which takes time, so that’s why I want my time.” 
“ Is time all it takes to write a book? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ it takes money also, because a feller’s 
got to live in the meanwhile. That’s why I’m askin’ for the 
back wages coming to me.” 

I hadn’t drawed no pay for some months — only small 
amounts now and again — so I had a sizable stake and I 
was afeared Mudge might balk at handing it over abrupt 
thataway. But he didn’t make no objections, just whistled 
a couple of times through his teeth reflectful. 

16 


THE PRACTISE INTERVIEW 


i7 


“ Time and money,” he says, “ what for would a feller 
want to write a book for if he’s possessed of them two 
blessin’s? ” Then he looked at me right hard. “ I don’t 
reckon it takes no brains to be an author, does it? ” 

“ I. got brains,” I says. 

So then Mudge smiled sarcastic. 

“ I don’t want to discourage you none,” he says kind, 
“ but it’s my idee that if you was to take a hoss’s hair and 
knock the peth out’n it and drop what brains you got down 
into the bar’l, them brains would rattle round like a peanut 
in a box-car.” 

“ Is that so? ” I come back. 

“ It’s less than the facts,” says Mudge; “ if your brains 
was dynamite and you was to touch a match to ’em, the 
resultin’ explosion wouldn’t blow your nose hardly.” 

“ How about my money? ” I asked, because I couldn’t 
stand there arguring about nothin’ all day. 

“ You kin have it,” says Mudge, and he went in the 
house and wrote out a check for the amount. 

“ Are you figurin’ on payin’ me board whilst you lay 
round writin’ that book of yourn? ” he asked. 

“ No,” I says, “ me and Allingham are starting out on a 
hossback tour and I’m to put down what happens in rout.” 

Mudge squinted up his eyes suspicious. 

“ I kin tell you in advance the first and most important 
thing will happen,” he says, “ this slick-talkin’ tenderfoot’ll 
own that stake of yourn and you’ll be countin’ over a passel 
of unnegotiable words for your share of the split. I’ve had 
that feller’s number from the day he come — it’s zero. He 
kin fool the Boss mebbe, an’ knotheads like you; but he 
can’t load me none. I’ve a good mind to take him to a 
cleanin’ before he leaves, jest for luck! ” 

Well, I was beginning to get fed up with Mudge’s con- 


18 LEM ALLEN 

versation, so I explained about it to him and went off to 
hunt up Allingham. 

“ Does it take brains to be a nauthor? ” I asked, when 
I found him. 

He looked at me kind of funny a minute and says: 

“ What an odd question! If you knew the number and 
the quality of books brought out yearly you’d know better 
than to ask it. It does not take brains to be an author.” 

What he said made me feel better and I told him so. 

“ But now that I think of it,” he went on without lissenin’ 
to what I was sayin’, “ the process does require a sort of 
low knack. And there are certain elementary principles a 
novice should bear in mind. Perhaps I’d better run over 
them for you, so you won’t waste time experimenting on a 
basis of false premises like most inexperienced geniusses.” 

“ I’m much obleeged,” I says. 

“ Not at all. In the first place an author’s reputation 
is the most important ingredient in the recipe for success; 
he should if possible be well and widely known in advance 
of publication.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ as far as my reputation goes I’m well 
and favorable known west to Flagstaff and south to the 
Mexican border, and I only been in jail once in my life. 
They wouldn’t of got me then only I took the wrong hoss 
and he give out on me, dern him! ” 

But Allingham shaken his head like this wouldn’t hardly 
do. 

“ You’re not notorious enough, Lem — you’ll have to 
depend on tactics. Let me outline a tentative formula: 
Persuade yourself that you know something the world can 
scarcely do without, but which nobody else knows. That’s 
called a mission — it isn’t difficult to acquire. Then en¬ 
shrine your thought in a book nobody can get any sense out 


THE PRACTISE INTERVIEW 


19 

of. That’ll be your masterpiece. The rest is easy. All 
you have to do is to find a philanthropic publisher, write a 
catchy blurb about yourself, hire a press agent and prepare 
to bask thereafter in the sunrays of success.” 

“ It sounds simple,” I says; “ what was that blurb writing 
you mentioned? ” 

“ Oh, just a little account of your career to date and a 
brief but clever description of your personality. Clever, 
I mean, in the sense that you must appear shrinkingly 
modest and yet not so much so as to obscure the basic fact 
your best deprecatory efforts can’t hide, namely, that you’re 
probably the most gripping and intriguing and suspenseful 
scribe that ever gave the bone-head public a chance to 
support him by monetary contributions to his vogue.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I ain’t noways discouraged. Nor I 
wouldn’t have to write no blurb out, I could tell you 
about myself now. My name is Lem Allen and I’m twenty- 
four years old come fall and I was born in Oklahoma and 
I am a singular feller without no responsibilities except my 
gal back home which I expect to marry when I get me a 
good stake. Also I got two hosses, a grey and a brown, 
but I favor the grey a mite more. He is a good pony going 
on seven year, only he will pitch if he thinks he can get away 
with it. He don’t pitch nothing regular with me. 

“ I am in good physical condition and weigh around a 
hundred and forty pounds, being wiry-built and right tough, 
though my legs is bowed out some from the saddle. I’m 
right ameable by nature unless they try to ride me, or 
mebbe once every so often in the morning before my 
coffee’s drank. As for my pers’nal looks, I ain’t never 
depended on them for a living so I managed to git along 
so far. I ain’t what you could call handsome in the face 
exactly, but I’ve seen worse favored fellers. Once or twice. 


20 


LEM ALLEN 


“ I reckon that’s about all, except that amongst my 
responsibilities I forgot to mention the check Mudge just 
give me for my back pay.” 

Allingham had been lissening feeble to what I was telling 
him; but when he heard about the check he jumped up 
right hasty and rubbed his hands together like he craved 
action. 

“ Well, well! ” he says sparklin’, “ here we’ve been wast¬ 
ing our time discussing unimportant abstractions when we’ve 
got something concrete to work on. Isn’t that just like a 
couple of literary chaps? ” 

“ I dunno,” I says frank, “ but I was figuring that as 
long as you ain’t got any money — which I don’t reckon 
you have — I’d best get this check cashed and hand you 
half of it so we can start on our trip with no advantage in 
the draw.” 

At this Allingham looked surprised, sort of; but when he 
seen I meant what I said he got right cordial and shook 
me by the hand a time or two. 

“ That’s mighty thoughtful of you, Lem! I can see 
you’re going to learn the author business in short order — 
you’re already getting careless about money.” 

“ How about that plan you was going to ponder out? ” 

“ Well, I’ve been thinking it over. For the first move I 
think you’d better make a practise interview with someone, 
to get your hand in. If you come out all right with it you 
can concentrate on interviews as we go along and omit de¬ 
scriptions of scenery and so forth, which are always most 
popular when missing from the text. Do you think you 
could manage an interview? ” 

“ How can I tell? ” I says; “I never tried one.” 

“ Well, the main thing is to keep the subject from getting 
type-shy. You must inveigle him into talking frank and 


THE PRACTISE INTERVIEW 


21 


free. You must creep up on his intelligence as if you were 
stalking some wary creature of the woods and ensnare his 
inmost thoughts by the superior subtlety of your trained 
mind. If he says something you already know you must 
write it down with a semblance of intense concentration, 
but if he lets slip any facts of real importance you must 
look out at the view to one side in a bored way, tapping 
your teeth impatiently with your well-sharpened pencil and 
carefully etching his words on your fallow brain for sub¬ 
sequent transcription. Do you follow me? ” 

“ No,” I says, “ but no matter. Who would you inter¬ 
view if you was me? ” 

Allingham thought a minute, then says: 

“ In my recent trips round the ranch and environs I ran 
across an old prospector camped near where I sought the 
lost sheep that time. He said his name was Andrew Jack- 
son — do you know him? ” 

“ Shore I know him. Everybody knows him — he was 
here before the Injuns come, so they say. He’s been pros¬ 
pecting all through the territory for years and has usually 
got a alleged fortune lying in the ground somewheres which 
he can’t get no kind-hearted investors to help him dig out. 
Likewise he’s the orneriest and most contrary critter living 
— if he was drownded a feller’d have to look upstream for 
the corpse, I wouldn’t wonder! ” 

“ He did strike me as being a bit difficult,” says Alling¬ 
ham. “ If you interview him successfully I think you might 
rest assured that your equipment for our task is adequate.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I ain’t looking forward to it none, but 
I’ll try a interview on Andrew and see what comes of it.” 

“ And in the meantime,” sudgested Allingham offhand, 
“ I’ll just take one of your horses and ride into Vegas for 
supplies. Perhaps I’d better take the check, after you’ve 


22 


LEM ALLEN 


endorsed it to my order, so I can collect my half of the 
proceeds and put a stop to the loss of interest I’m suffering 
at present.” 

Well, what Allingham said give me a pause. I begun 
to realize more plain the hazzards of this dangerous life we 
was starting out on, because with my name on the check 
there wasn’t nothing only moral reasons why Allingham 
shouldn’t take the whole amount of money from the check 
and spend it on hisself. And while morals is all right in 
their place it’s been one of my experiences that they ain’t 
always a plumb reliable guarantee agin financial errors. 

About this time I recollected what Mudge had said he 
figured would happen to my stake, and the thought come to 
me that perhaps Allingham had sudgested my interviewing 
Andrew Jackson so’s to git me out’n the way while he went 
on a time at Vegas. But then I happened to remember 
also that if I didn’t trust Allingham the very first time he 
wanted to be trusted, how could him and me learn some¬ 
thing about each another? 

So I quit thinking and wrote my name on the check and 
give it to Allingham and saddled up the grey for him and 
the brown for myself and taken a snap-shot camera the Boss 
owned which Allingham had been using and started for 
Andrew’s claim. 

This Andrew Jackson is a pore old feller which has been 
living by hisself so long he hasn’t got no manners left. He 
acts so important nobody can’t tell him nothing. I reckon 
he ain’t just right in the head neither — but p’r’aps I’m 
running him down because I didn’t have no luck in my 
interview. I always aim to be fair. 

When I reached Andrew’s camp I found him sitting on 
the door-sill of his cabin, looking right discouraged. 


THE PRACTISE INTERVIEW 23 

“ I have come to make an interview with you, Andrew,” 
I says. 

“ Git down! ” says Andrew husky, “ I ain’t saw you for a 
month of moons. You don’t have any whiskey with you, 
do you? ” 

So I told him I didn’t and give him the makin’s and we 
set smoking peaceable a spell. Then finally Andrew 
throwed away his cigareet butt and asks: 

“ What was that you was sayin’ about a interview? ” 

“ Well, I’m writing a book, Andrew, and the first step is 
to get idees from prominent people hereabouts about what 
they think.” 

“ I don’t think,” says Andrew, “ as a rule. Because they 
ain’t nothin’ in this hull dog-blasted local’ty wuth thinkin’ 
about. And I ain’t the feller you’re lookin’ for nohow — 
the only thing prominent about me at the present instance 
is my thirst, which is shore workin’ this mornin’. You 
didn’t say you had any licker, did you? ” 

“ No,” I told him, “ I ain’t got no time for pleasure. I’m 
writing a book like I told you. Do you reckon we will 
have a good grazing season for beef cattle this year, 
Andrew? ” 

Andrew looked at me disgusted. 

“ They used to take prophets and prop ’em up and throw 
stones at ’em. They let ’em live now, for the most part; but 
yet it ain’t a plumb lukertive line I ain’t no prophet.” 

“ Well, lookit here, Andrew,” I says impatient. “ Whyhi’t 
you act rees’nable? If you don’t say something kin be 
printed when I ask you, how am I goin’ to get this here 
interview? ” 

“ It ain’t no hair off’n my head if you don’t git the inter¬ 
view,” he says more cheerful. 

So then I figured I’d take a picture of Andrew, because 


24 


LEM ALLEN 


Allingham says the best interviews are always illustrated 
with pictures of the fellers involved; but when I aimed the 
camera Andrew jumped back like he was snakebit and 
jerked out his gun. 

“ HoP on thar! ” he hollers right fierce. 

“ What’s the matter, Andrew? ” I asked him. “ It don’t 
hurt none.” 

“ Nobody can’t take no pitcher of me,” he says excited. 
“ How do I know how fur it’ll go or who it’ll reach? They’s 
fellers would ruther git a peek at this face of mine than to 
meet up with some movin’ pitcher queen or other at first 
hand.” 

What he claimed sounded kind of boastful to me, so I 
says: 

“ Them fellers has got right poor judgment, to my way 
of thinking.” 

“ Mebbe so,” says Andrew, “ but they got doggone good 
memories.” 

I seen it wasn’t of no use to argue, so I begun talking 
about something else; and as soon as Andrew found I’d give 
up the notion he got more sociable and told me about his 
troubles. And I told him about Allingham and the trip 
me and him was going to make. 

“ I done met the young feller,” Andrew put in, “ he come 
up here visitin’ most every mornin’ for a spell. I took him 
round to some of my claims, but he seemed more interested 
in the ore I had from that new strike I made las’ summer 
in the Mogollon mountains — the Golden Nuggett, I call it. 
I wouldn’t wonder if this Allingham and me wouldn’t come 
to a dicker on that prospect — if he gits aholt of any 
money.” 

Then Andrew started in for to tell me about this claim, 
the Golden Nuggett, but I wasn’t overly interested. I was 


THE PRACTISE INTERVIEW 


25 


glad, though, to get a sidelight on how Allingham had been 
spending his time when he let on to be sightseeing. And 
while Andrew was talking an idee come to me how I could 
get the interview with him and attend to my own business 
also. 

“ Do you keer for a drink, Andrew? ” I asks sudden. 
Andrew stopped talking and looked at me right earnest. 
“ Because if you do,” I says, “ you’d best throw your 
saddle onto your hoss and ride into Vegas with me and I’ll 
guarantee you a time. I got money waitin’ for me there. 
But you got to give me that interview I was talking about! ” 
Andrew never said nothing, just jumped up and loped 
off down the draw after his mare, which is named Sadie. It’s 
a funny name for a hoss, but then Sadie is funny herself. 
I dunno how old she is, because she won’t let nobody git 
close enough to her teeth to find out. Andrew claims it’s 
only natural for a critter of the feminine gender, but seems 
like Sadie would be too mature for such foolishness. But 
mebbe they git wuss as they grow older — I dunno. 

When we finally got going I says: 

“Now for the interview, Andrew! ” 

But Andrew looked plumb irr’table. 

“ What are you talking about — with a drink waiting? ” 
he says. “ Giddap, Sadie! ” 

So I humored him for the time being. It’s always best, 
when they’re thataway. 


Chapter IV 


A FRIENDLY GAME WITH CARDS 


I T was after sundown when me and Andrew got to town 
and I and Sadie was both fatigged, because all Andrew 
said on the trail was “ Giddap! ” and all he done was 
push the mare on faster than she felt ’twas fittin’ to travel. 
When we finally reached Vegas and couldn’t find Allingham 
nowheres to get my share of the money off him, Andrew 
begun to act up. 

“ If I had a stake cornin’ to me,” he says bitter, “ they 
wouldn’t be a hole deep enough nor a crack norrow enough 
to hide it away from me in. Why, I’d taar this town up 
roots and branches afore I’d go dry on account of a mere 
failin’ to connect with that ornery, thievin’ fly-by-night 
which calls hisself Allingham! ” 

“ Why’n’t you be patient the way I am, Andrew? ” I 
says, and then Andrew come back at me with some de¬ 
scriptive matters which I will omit, like Allingham sud- 
gested, and we had words and finally somebody come in 
between us. 

When they found out what Andrew was suffering from 
they led him over to Hicks’s Bar and one of the fellers 
winked at the bartender on account of the pro’bition law 
and shortly afterwards I left Andrew pacified and started 
to hunt up Allingham by myself. 

I was getting right worrited, because Vegas ain’t never 
a safe place for a feller with money which ain’t acquainted 
there, and Allingham hadn’t struck me as one which would 

26 


A FRIENDLY GAME WITH CARDS 


27 


be good at taking keer of himself in a crowd. But if I’d 
knowed him better I wouldn’t of wasted my emotions the 
way I done. 

Finally I found a bartender who claimed he’d seen Ailing- 
ham a while back, headed for a little game of stud. So 
I begun to git more worrited yet, because in cards them 
little games is usually big games. Little is just the way 
they call them. 

“ Whereabouts is this game staged? ” I asked the feller. 

“ I ain’t right sure,” he says, “ but you might inquire 
over to the Saddles saloon. I believe this friend of yours 
got a check cashed there.” 

So I busted over to the Saddles hasty, and the more I 
thought of Allingham gittin’ in a game the madder I got. 
I figured that besides making me ascairt for his safety 
he didn’t have no right to git me all worked up over the 
well-bein’ of my stake. It wa’n’t a friendly act, seemed 
like. 

I found him setting cozy in the back room of the saloon, 
playing in the poker game like I’d suspicioned he’d be 
doin’. As I come in he riz up and pushed back his chair 
and stretched hisself. 

“ That’ll be all for the nonce,” he says indifferent. Then 
he seen me and how I was looking at him cold-like, and he 
was some took aback, I reckon, because he greeted me right 
hearty. 

“ I didn’t expect you in town so soon, Lem,” he says, 
“ but welcome just the same. Did you get your interview 
with Andrew? ” 

“ No,” I says, “ I done wasted my time. I hope you 
used yours profitable.” 

So he laughed. 

“ I planned on it, but my plan was disarranged by some 
strangers who entered the game unexpectedly.” 


28 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Who all was that? ” 

“ Four kings,” he says; “ they were held in the last hand 
— against me.” 

Well, sir, I bowed up right there. I figured Allingham 
had blowed in the whole stake, because it’s been one of my 
experiences that fellers ain’t got no property sense when the 
chips is rattlin’. I brung up the question later and Alling¬ 
ham helt it’s because their bump of prudence don’t function 
in the crisis, but I dunno. Seems like they just git plumb 
shiftless. 

I thought o’ course this was a case in p’int, but I was 
mistook, because just as I was fixin’ to slip the hackamore 
off’n my tongue and let Allingham in on my real feelin’s, 
he drawed a roll of bills out’n his pocket and handed them 
over to me. 

“ There’s your part of our capital, Lem,” he says, “ mine, 
I grieve to state, has been sacrificed at the shrine of the 
fickle goddess.” 

Well, it wasn’t no news to jubilate over, for a fact. It 
looked like our chances of takin’ a trip was gettin’ slimmer 
as time passed. And my idee in givin’ Allingham half the 
check had been for him to spend it on the tour, not a busted 
flush. Yet I hadn’t made no hard and fast stip’lations to 
that effect, and he’d been doin’ his best to win in the poker 
game, I figured. So with one thing and another and me 
sufferin’ relief that he hadn’t gambled away our last cent 
I nodded towards the bar and says: 

“ Hadn’t we better take one? ” 

“ It might help,” Allingham admitted, and so we ap¬ 
proached the bartender and after winking a time or two 
give the order. 

I took licker and Allingham says: “ Give me the same! ” 
and then we swallered and Allingham made a face and says 


A FRIENDLY GAME WITH CARDS 


2 9 

to the bartender: “ That ain’t the same — it’s even worse! ” 

“ Shish! ” says the feller like he was scared somebody’d 
hear him. “ That stuff you’re drinkin’ is agin the law! ” 

“Well,” I says, “it ought to be, for a fact!” 

Then nobody said much for a spell and we had one or two 
more in the interims of silence. 

I ain’t no great hand to drink as a rule; not that I get 
mean or raar round important, but only after a certain 
number I get so doggoned expensive. Money don’t mean 
no more to me on them occasions than time. I’ve cost 
myself a lot of cash thataway off and on — a couple or 
three hundred dollars total, I reckon, if the truth was 
known. 

It was just so once I got drinking with Allingham in the 
Saddles saloon. I hadn’t had so much money since I holp 
a feller with a little holdup job down in Oklahoma, when 
I was younger and less keerful; and I reckon the wealthy 
feeling must of gone to my head. That or the licker, which 
was right percolatin’ stuff. 

So it wasn’t no time at all hardly till I was buying drinks 
for the company, and presently I give Allingham half of 
what cash I had left so’s he could gamble some more, 
seeing he liked it. That’s just how reckless I was getting. 

He made some objections at first but I persuaded him 
it was more sensible for him to have a good time whilst we 
could afford it, so finally he took up his original plan once 
more to make a killing in the poker game, and I went out 
to wrangle Andrew and see if I could get that interview. 

I found Andrew where I’d left him, in Hicks’s saloon, 
only now he was setting down at a table with some fellers 
gathered round laughing fit to kill. He was telling them 
about his troubles, so he was enjoying hisself also. 


30 


LEM ALLEN 


When he seen me it reminded him of the grudge he had 
agin me for not giving him a time like I’d agreed to, and 
he began to cuss vi’lent till I showed him the money I had 
and then he quieted down and I become one of the audience. 

I figured if I was patient I could get the interview, but 
whenever I’d mention about it Andrew would start in on a 
new hard luck story and shut me off. Finally he said plain 
he’d rather wait till morning when he was finished with 
business, so I had to set up till all hours and then put him 
to bed at the hotel where I could keep an eye on him. 

In the morning it turned out that his business was still 
absorbing, as you might say; because when I brought up the 
interview Andrew says: “ Hoi’ on; I got to git me a drink 
first. I ain’t been so drouthy since Sadie was a colt.” 

So we traipsed over to the Saddles; but no sooner we 
got inside than we heard a yellin’ and a stampin’ from the 
back room and there I see Allingham settin’ where I’d left 
him the night before, with chips stacked up all round him 
and the balance of the players glansing at him right jealous. 

“ How you doin’? ” I asked him. 

u How’s he doin’? ” hollers a feller which had been 
sweating the game. “ How’s he doin’? He’s done made a 
clean-up! I wouldn’t wonder if they was more money 
layin’ there on the table than they is in the Gov’ment 
mint! ” 

Allingham was right pale in the face and must of been 
plumb tired, the way he kept lifting up his eyebrows to get 
his eyes open. 

“ My plans worked out this trip, Lem,” he says, yawning. 
“ Industry and perseverance bring a sure reward. I guess 
I’ll take a nap now.” And with that he laid his head down 
onto the table and begun to sleep peaceful. 

I cashed in the chips and the winnings come to eight 


A FRIENDLY GAME WITH CARDS 


3i 


hundred and thirty-two dollars, which with what I had left 
out’n the original wages check made better’n a thousand 
altogether. It shore looked like a lot of money for one man 
to handle. 

I seen Allingham was good for a spell of rest and re¬ 
cooperation, after the shift of night work he’d done, so I 
moved over to the bar and bought Andrew a drink of what 
they kep’ there. Andrew called it a eye-opener, though I 
wouldn’t have judged he needed nothing of the kind after 
he’d had a good look at the winnings. Then me and him 
went out for the balance of our breakfast. 

Andrew didn’t say a grate deal during the meal, but every 
once in so often he’d ask to see the money and then seems 
like he’d feel better. So I figured I’d be able to get my 
interview before long. I didn’t pester Andrew none, how- 
somever; I just showed him the roll occasional and let the 
sight sink into his mind. 

But I was wrong agin about gittin’ the interview, because 
no sooner we’d finished at the restaurant than Andrew let 
on he had a important engagement with a mining sharp he’d 
met the night before, and left without no more words said. 
So when I seen I couldn’t git him to stay I let him go and 
went back to where I’d left Allingham. 

I found him sitting up able to take a little liquid nourish¬ 
ment, so I drug out the stake he’d win and give it to him. 
He counted it careful and then split the amount and shoved 
a half of it at me. 

“ That’s yours, Lem,” he says. 

“ No,” I says, “ I don’t want only what I loaned you.” 

Allingham seemed right put out. 

“No ding-busted author can bully me,” he says loud; 
“ I guess I can split fifty-fifty with you if I want to. 
can’t I? * 


32 


LEM ALLEN 


Well, I didn’t want no quarrel with him there in the 
public’s eye, so I give in and took the money. And I begun 
to figure that mebbe we could get started on our tour now, 
but just as I was fixin’ to sudgest it I heard the door creak 
behind me and seen Allingham looking right attentive acrost 
my shoulder, his eyes might’ nigh wide open. 

I swung round and who should I see standin’ there but 
Mudge and a couple of punches from the Bar T ranch? 

Mudge was grinning on one side of his mouth, the way he 
does when he’s up to some meanness. He took a step or 
two towards Allingham and Allingham sat quiet, looking 
Mudge over sleepy-like. 

“Mister Arnold wants to see you, young feller! ” says 
Mudge important. “ He’s waiting over to the Montezuma 
House.” 

Allingham studied a minute with his glanse on the floor 
like he hadn’t heard no words at all, then looked up and 
says careless: “Thank you, Mudge — there’s no answer! ” 

The punchers sort of snickered and Mudge give a frown 
and edged up closer. 

“ Are you goin’ over or not? ” he hollers vi’lent. 

Allingham stretched hisself and yawned, tapping one 
hand over his mouth. 

“To tell you the truth I haven’t decided; but I’ll take 
the matter under advisement. I can’t promise more, so 
don’t coax me! ” 

At that the punchers bust out laughing and Mudge un¬ 
buckled his cattridge belt and throwed it onto the floor 
savage. 

“You can’t make no fool out’n me! ” he yells. 

“ No,” says Allingham reflectful, “ the good Lord beat me 
to it.” Then he jumped out of his chair quick and stood 
up to Mudge. 


A FRIENDLY GAME WITH CARDS 


33 

Mudge give a beller and dived for Allingham, and me and 
the punchers hollered and jumped round so’s to get a better 
view. But we didn’t see a grate deal. Before we’d hardly 
had time to work up our enthusiasms Allingham jabbed 
Mudge a couple of times in the face as he rushed in and 
then swang a right from somewheres in behind hisself and 
caught Mudge smack on the p’int of the jaw. 

Well, sir, when that punch landed I figured Mudge must 
be shore knocked loose from his wishbone. His head 
took a sort of rainbow curve backwards and never stopped 
travelin’ till it brung up agin the planks of the floor. We 
watched for him to git up but there wasn’t no come-back 
in his system, at the moment. He jest lay there plumb still 
and peaceable, like he was waiting for somebody to say it 
with flowers. So we figured the fight was completed. 

The punchers drug Mudge to one side where he wouldn’t 
be in the way, and they was still working over him when 
Allingham and me left. Which we did as soon as Allingham 
had received the ovations of them present and got his hand 
wropped up where it had chipped off a mite agin Mudge’s 
vissage. 


Chapter V 


THE GOLDEN NUGGETT 

W ELL,” I says to Allingham when we had made 
our eggsits from the Saddles saloon, “ if you’re 
supposed to be a invalid at the present writings 
I’d sure hate to get in a jam with you when you’re feeling 
healthy. The way you treated Mudge anybody’d think 
you was a fighter.” 

“ I thought so myself once,” Allingham says sober. After 
a minute he went on: “A chap that’s looking for trouble 
usually gets it in time — and in bulk. I got it on the 
occasion I refer to. Since then I’ve been more careful who 
I pick to demonstrate on. ; ’ 

So we didn’t say no more about the matter then, but I 
began to suspect Allingham wasn’t such a greenhorn as 
you’d think from lissening to him talk — because this 
Mudge was right rugged of a feller and one which a 
ordinary man wouldn’t go out of his way to cross. I don’t 
hardly believe I would have wanted to tackle him myself. 

Soon we reached the Montezuma House, where we was 
heading for, and found the Boss waiting for us. He seemed 
right pleased to see Allingham. 

“ What’s wrong with your hand? ” he asked the first thing. 
Allingham smiled like it wasn’t much to fret over. 

“ I’m afraid I was a bit hasty with your messenger. So 
we quarreled.” 

At that the Boss looked kind of anxious. 

<c You don’t say! I hope you haven’t any other injuries. 
Mudge is rather a rough and ready customer — ” 


34 


THE GOLDEN NUGGETT 


35 

“ He’s rough all right,” I put in, “ but I don’t hardly 
believe this time he was ready. For what happened.” 

So the Boss looked surprised. 

“ You don’t mean to tell me Mudge got the worst of it? ” 

“ If he don’t know by now he’s whipped,” I says, “ it’s 
because he ain’t woke up yet. He looked right harmless 
the last I seen of him.” 

Then the Boss laughed, kind of. Nor I don’t reckon he 
was grievin’ much about what had took place, because 
Mudge wasn’t one which a feller’d cry over on account of 
his misfortunes. 

Then the Boss looked at Allingham reproachful. 

“ I thought you promised me you were going to rest out 
at the ranch for a while. Now I hear you’re off on a wild 
goose chase — ” 

“ We’re not off yet,” Allingham says smiling, “ we’re just 
jockeying for a start. But candidly, we did plan a little 
trip for copy.” 

“ For copy? ” 

“ Yes,” says Allingham, and told the Boss how I had 
decided to be a author and write down the true facts about 
our adventures in this Western country, and how he had 
agreed after bein’ persuaded agin his best judgment to go 
along and see I didn’t get into no trouble. But he left out 
how dangerous we was going to act and about this feller 
Neetsky and all. Mebbe he figured the Boss wasn’t 
acquainted with Neetsky, like I wasn’t. 

When he’d finished he says apologetic: 

“ I suppose we should have waited till you returned before 
setting forth on our Odyssey, but I thought we’d run into 
you in town here — as we did — and get an opportunity 
to explain the method in our madness — as I’ve done. Of 
course we don’t expect to be gone forever—and of course 


LEM ALLEN 


36 

I’ll let you know what happens; so maybe you’ll find it in 
your heart to forgive me for crippling your foreman and 
stealing your cook and only guest. Perhaps you’ll even 
bestow your blessing on us and wish us luck in our under¬ 
taking! ” 

“ You’ll probably need it,” laughed the Boss. “ How 
are you fixed for money? ” 

So we told him and he laughed some more and then him 
and Allingham shook hands and was about to call it a day, 
when Allingham asks offhanded: 

“ By the way, how did your mining friend make out? ” 

“ So-so,” says the Boss, “ nothing startling. I’d like to 
have you meet him, but he’s over at Tecolote for the day — 
got a hunch on a prospect there.” 

With that we said Adids and immerged from the Monte¬ 
zuma House. And about then I remembered Andrew and 
how I hadn’t got that interview yet. So I mentioned the 
facts to Allingham. 

“ We’d ought not to leave the pore old feller stranded,” 
I says: “ just when he’s got going good on a bender. Seems 
like a plumb crool situation for a critter of his years an’ 
habits.” 

But Allingham didn’t seem overly sympathetic. 

“ What bar do you suppose he’s in? ” he asks absent- 
minded. 

So I told him about the date Andrew had with a mining 
man and Allingham begun to look interested. 

“ I wouldn’t be surprised if your altruistic instincts were 
sound, Lem,” he says finally; “ it won’t do for us to leave 
a fellow human being in distress when a small loan might 
make him happy and contented. Let’s go and look 
Andrew up! ” 


THE GOLDEN NUGGETT 


37 

So that’s what we done, though it taken us the best part 
of an hour to locate Andrew. 

We found him in the back room of a saloon in Old Town, 
which is a section infested mostly by Mexicans and dogs. 
He was sitting at a table with a drink in front of him, 
looking plumb important and talking loud to one of them 
slicked-up Mexicans with store clothes on and a little black 
mushtache like the pictures of handsome villains in gal’s 
novels. He looked right unappetizin’ to me, for a fact — 
although I ain’t no hand to hold a man’s natural misfortunes 
agin him. And when we seen Andrew was making friendly 
talk with the critter we set down at the table with them 
and Andrew ordered the drinks like he was passing the 
time of day. 

When the bartender turned up Andrew digs out a roll a 
pitchin’ hoss couldn’t jump over. 

“ Seems like the luck has done turned for you, Andrew! ” 
I says surprised. 

“ I been workin’ this mornin’,” says Andrew careless. 
Then he showed us a chunk of ore he had in his pocket. 
“ This here has just interested my friend Mr. Garnashone 
Sena, which you all kin observe acrost the table from me, 
to the extent of a couple of hundred dollars.” 

“ Encarnacion it is my name! ” put in the Mexican 
peckish. 

“No matter,” says Andrew good-humored, “ you done 
paid your money. Here’s hopin’ you ain’t stuck! ” 

So we drunk to that idee, though as far as my feelings 
went the Mexican could of been stuck a whole lot and I 
wouldn’t have shed no teardrops, as the feller says. 

“ Just what was it you bought, Mr. Sena? ” asked Ailing- 
ham polite. “ Not that ore, I don’t imagine? ” 

“ Not that but consid’able more like it! ” Andrew busted 


LEM ALLEN 


38 

in, before the Mexican could say something. “ Carnation’s 
done purchased a option on half interests in my claim the 
Golden Nuggett. The other half I’m holdin’ agin all offers.” 

When Allingham heard this he looked sort of hacked, 
and I asked: 

“ Whereabouts is the claim located? ” 

“ I already told you, yesterday,” says Andrew, “ down 
in the Mogollons. And Nation here, who’s a lawyer and a 
man of jedgment, thinks — ” 

“ No, no,” breaks in the Mexican uneasy, “ I did not 
say I think — I hope! ” 

Allingham was looking at the Mexican careful. 

“ Since you’re a lawyer, Mr. Sena, perhaps you’re acting 
for some client in this matter? ” 

But Sena just shook his head doubtful and spread his 
hands out innercent the way they does. 

“ It may prove a good investment, senor — I hope! ” 

So then Allingham seen he’d got off on the wrong foot, 
because anybody which can extract information from a 
Mexican by asking questions could set up as a detecative 
right now. And before he could figure out something else 
the Mexican got up and bowed ornamental to each of us and 
said, “ Adids! ” and went out’n the saloon. 

Allingham glansed tactful towards Andrew and asked: 

“Were you serious just now when you stated that you 
decline to part with what you still own of your claim? ” 

“ No,” says Andrew, “ I wa’n’t.” 

Well, Allingham looked right took back for a minute, not 
knowing Andrew as well as he might. Then he got his 
breath and says brisk: 

“ Good! That being the case, I can offer you two hun¬ 
dred dollars for a six-months option on your remaining 
interest in the Golden Nuggett.” 


THE GOLDEN NUGGETT 


39 


But Andrew laughed harsh. 

“ You kin offer me more’n that if you ain’t blowed your 
recent winnin’s reckless. Don’t talk foolish! ” 

At this Allingham got right red in the face and hollers: 

“ Why, the dad-gummed hole in the ground ain’t worth 
any more now than it was this morning, is it? Nor it hasn’t 
increased in value four times since a week ago when you 
offered me a half interest for fifty dollars, has it? ” 

“ Yep,” says Andrew, “ it has.” 

So Allingham leaned back like he was fatigged. 

“ Perhaps you’ll explain the miracle? ” 

“ It ain’t no miracle,” Andrew says, “ it’s a probullum 
in addition. And the reason you got to get your mathe¬ 
matics to work if you’re goin’ to git in on the Golden 
Nuggett is because I don’t need a stake now as bad as I 
did before. You forgot I got money now! ” 

Well, Allingham was gettin’ right riled, but it didn’t do 
him no good because Andrew had him in a tight and they 
both knowed it. So after arguring back and forth for a 
half hour or better Andrew let on he’d sell an option on the 
half interest he still held, for five hundred dollars, and five 
thousand to be paid as purchase money if the option was 
took up within six months. 

I bust out laughing when I heard this — it seemed right 
ridiculous. But when Allingham took Andrew up on the 
prop’sition and said it was a go, I quit laughing because I 
could see it was li’ble to develop into a matter involving 
consid’able cash money. 

I didn’t say nothing, however; just waited patient while 
Allingham chased Andrew off to a notary to get the papers 
made out. 

Then Allingham turned to me. 

“ If you’ll hand me two hundred and fifty dollars, Lem,” 


40 


LEM ALLEN 


he says casual, “ there won’t be any more formalities to go 
through with till we see Andrew again.” 

“ You ain’t gone crazy, have you? ” I asked him. 

Well, Allingham looked plumb disappointed. 

“ Crazy? ” he says injured-like. “ Crazy — to want my 
pardner to share in the good luck that’s come into my life? ” 

“ Hah — hah! ” I says sarcastic. “ Good luck! ” Then 
I begun to think what a triflin’, immoral thing it was to 
throw good money away which some pore feller could of 
used to buy bread an’ meat with and I says: “ Lookit here, 
Allingham, I didn’t make no objection when you risked a 
half of our capital in that card game, because in the first 
place I didn’t know about it till too late and in the second 
place you had a gamblin’ chance to make some money out’n 
the game. But this here projeck is different. They ain’t no 
chance for profits at all. And we ain’t in a position to give 
no sum like five hundred dollars to charity — or even to 
Andrew, if it comes to that. Whatever made you get caught 
up in this kind of a jam is beyond me, and that’s the gospel 
truth! ” 

Allingham was movin’ his glass round on the table in a 
little circle and watching the operation pensif. When he 
seen I’d done made my talk he looked up solemn and says: 

“ I’m glad you’re willing to discuss the affair, Lem. I 
understand you find yourself in a quandary as to the nature 
of the considerations which moved me to accept Andrew’s 
generous offer — let me resolve your puzzlement. Firstly, 
you must concede that it’s better to sink a portion of our 
stake in a respectable form of investment such as real 
property than lose it otherwise piecemeal — as we’d be 
sure to do sooner or later. Secondly, if someone should 
happen to discover pay ore in the Golden Nuggett we’d 


THE GOLDEN NUGGETT 


4i 

find ourselves in a noble strategic position. Can you deny 
it? ” 

“ I don’t aim to,” I says, “ all I got to remark is, I ain’t 
interested in the prop’sition.” 

When I says this Allingham got a plumb sad look on his 
face like he’d lost a friend or something. Then he hove 
a couple or three sighs, with a pause in between each one. 
When I asked him what was the trouble he says mournful: 

“ Nothing, Lem — nothing. Only it hurts me when you 
refuse the first real danger we’ve encountered, on the very 
threshold of our enterprize. Perhaps I’ve tried you too far 
though, to begin with; because while many lightheartedly 
risk physical or moral disaster it takes a true hero to look 
poverty in the face and smile. Ah, well, I can go it alone — 
to the extent of what money I have left anyway! ” 

Then he ordered the drinks in a die-away voice, smiling 
like it was hard but had to be did courageous. And after 
we’d had one or two more shots of Mexican licker I begun 
to git sad also. It looked as if our tour was goin’ to be 
turned into a mournin’ bee, an’ the idee didn’t make no hit 
with me when I thunk of it. Then I begun to think, well, 
mebbe there was something in what Allingham said about 
our having decided to act dangerous and me not living up 
to the prescription. And I seen that it was a right good 
chance to prove out the plan we’d made, because there’s 
no two ways about it, puttin’ money in some other feller’s 
mine is about as reckless a move as you could figure out. 
So what with one thing and another finally I begun to give 
way and says: 

“ I reckon if we was to contribute to Andrew’s drive, 
like you sudgested, we’d still have enough money to make a 
start on our tour with.” 

Then I picked two hundred and fifty dollars off my roll 


42 


LEM ALLEN 


and shoved it over towards Allingham. But he put up his 
hand like to push me off. 

“ No, no! ” he says. “ I don’t want you to go into this 
out of pity, against your better judgment. Misery loves 
company, it’s true, but it prefers good company if possible. 
And how do I know your pleasant disposition won’t be 
ruined if it should happen that ill-luck greets this venture? ” 

“ I reckon we got a right good chance to make a lot 
of money,” I says encouragin’; “ thousands and thousands, 
mebbe. I wouldn’t wonder if we was cheatin’ pore old 
Andrew — takin’ his treasure for a mere pittans this way. 
I’m chock-full with enthusiasm, for a fact! ” 

Well, would you believe it, Allingham acted as if he 
thought I was lyin’ and it taken me a lot of time and sev’el 
drinks before I could get him to accept them bills. I de¬ 
clare, I never seen nobody so plumb obstinate about takin’ 
what he wanted in my life. 

But finally he give in and says: 

“ If you won’t have No for an answer I suppose I must 
let you in on the deal.” Then he laughed and adds: 
“ You’re a pretty good fellow, Lem! ” 

“ I’m a dern fool, you mean, I reckon! ” I says short. 

But Allingham just says, “ What’s the difference? ” and 
counted the bills I’d give him and put them in his pocket 
and then riz up cheerful and drug me out to buy supplies 
for the trip we was going to take. 

In addition to the supplies Allingham bought tobacco and 
a teethbrush, but I had plenty of smokin’ so I didn’t have 
to buy nothing. 

Later we met Andrew and got the option papers and 
Allingham give Andrew the five hundred dollars. I wanted 
to get the interview with Andrew, specially as he couldn’t 
claim now he wasn’t prominent with all that cash in his 


THE GOLDEN NUGGETT 


43 


clothes, and Andrew wanted to buy some drinks; but finally 
we compromised on doing neither. So Andrew said he 
believed he’d go over to the hardware store and get him 
some false teeth like Allingham’s and Allingham got kind 
of riled and so we left Andrew and his money and went 
over to the depot to watch the westbound train come in. 

We found the train was late, so we set up on the porch of 
the local Harvey House waiting for it to come. This 
partic’lar hotel is a right expensive place and I would have 
rather set somewheres else so nobody could think we was 
acting proud on account of having money, but Allingham 
says No. For the benefit of the management, he sa^s, let 
us stay where we was, because there was a lot of advertise¬ 
ment for a hotel in catering to only the smartest people. 

“ Well,” I says, “ we can shore qualify as bein’ smart, 
because we’ve spent mighty nigh a whole day with negoti¬ 
able cash in our pockets and we’ve got some on it left yet.” 

So Allingham didn’t say nothing for a spell. 

“ How about that itinery you was mentionin’? ” I asked 
finally. 

Allingham looked dreamy-like up and down the tracks. 

“ Don’t let’s bother about it now. Doubtless it will come 
to us at the psychic moment. In the meantime let’s enjoy 
to the full our ignorance of what’s going to happen to us 
next.” 

He sat back in his chair and lit a cigareet and I could tell 
by his looks he was fixin’ to talk, because he looked like 
he was thinking of something to eat and couldn’t decide 
what it would be exactly. But just as he was opening his 
mouth to begin and I was glansing up the track to see if 
the train had come in sight yet he sat up straight and 
whispers, “ Holy Moses! ” like he was surprised. 


44 


LEM ALLEN 


I looked round quick and all I seen was a gal walking 
towards us along the porch. 

“ What struck you? ” I asked Allingham curious. 

“ Dumbhead! ” he says soft, like he was prayin’. “ Look 
what’s coming towards us! ” 

“ I am,” I says, “ it’s a gal.” 

“A girl! Why, you poor strabismic creature — it’s a 
vision! ” 

So I didn’t say no more then, because we’d had right 
smart of drinks during the day and sometimes a feller gets 
funny idees about what he’s seein’ after he’s had so much. 
Nor I didn’t do nothing for the time being only watch the 
gal while she walked apast us into the hotel without turning 
her eyes in our direction. And just then we heard Number 
Nine train which we was waiting for whistle up the track 
and seen her headlights swing around the curve to eastward. 


Chapter VI 


THE PSYCHIC MOMENT 

I N the last chapter I stopped right in the midst of where 
we seen a gal, which Allingham claims was a mistake 
because he says talking about some gal is the one best 
bet in the manufacturing of a best-seller book. He says 
if he was me he would set down and make an attractif pen- 
picture of this gal. Well, I ain’t no hand at drawring 
though if it comes to a showdown I can do better with a 
sof’ pencil than a pen; but mebbe on the whole I better 
tell what the gal looked like instead. 

Even at that I’m afeared I’m not goin’ to be any too good, 
because I ain’t had no great amount of practise sizing gals 
up. To tell the truth I ain’t never been overly much 
pestered with them. But I can figure out a man or a hoss 
about as well as the next feller, and it’s been one of my 
experiences that if they’re wide between the eyes and have 
sens’tif nostrils and hold their heads up eager they’re clean- 
bred and sound as a rule. That was this here gal — a 
thoroughbred if ever I seen one. And she had a plumb 
peaseful look onto her face and a wrinkle at one end of her 
mouth like she could take a joke. 

I’ve been trying to rec’lect what her clothes was like but 
I disremember, except that they were mostly white with 
some black. But I’m here to say that this queen from 
Sheba they brag on as a high-class dresser couldn’t of been 
neater looking nor more respectable attired; nor if she’d 


45 


LEM ALLEN 


46 

bought her duds at Tiffany’s where Allingham claims they 
sell the most fashionable wimmin’s wear they is. 

Well, to git back to where we was, after Allingham and 
me had heard the train whistling from down the track we 
riz up and were moving toward the platform when the gal 
I’ve been talking about came out of the hotel and begun 
looking around like she was expecting to see somebody. 

Then when she seen us she come forrard and says: 

“ Can either of you gentlemen tell me if this is the Colo¬ 
rado Flyer — and how long it stops here? ” 

So Allingham pulled off his hat and made a right grace¬ 
ful bow. 

“ I’m a stranger like yourself, madam! My friend and 
I are visitors, slightly interested in mining hereabouts. 
We’re making but a brief stay and therefore know nothing 
about the trains — except that ordinarily they’re late. . . . 
However, I’d be delighted to make inquiries for you! ” 

“ I wish you would! ” said the gal, looking at him funny 
like she thought he was lying, which he was. 

Just then a feller ingaged by the hotel began beating on 
the gong and hollers: “Twenty-five minutes for supper! 
The Flyer stops twenty-five minutes! ” 

“ This must be the train you want,” Allingham says 
helpful, “ and it stops twenty-five minutes if that industrious 
young man can be believed.” 

The gal sort of smiled and Allingham looked right pleased 
with himself, though he hadn’t done nothing much only 
listen to the feller with the gong, fur as I could see. 

Then Allingham drawed a deep breath and says soothing: 

“ Madam, I’d rather lose my inalienable American birth¬ 
right, a chance to be rich, than have you think myself and 
friend presumptuous, but if our humble presence at the 
dinner table would not offend I’d be glad to offer you our 


THE PSYCHIC MOMENT 


47 


personal protection during the next twenty-five minutes. 
. . . We are now in the wildest section of the Santa Fe 
system and you can’t be too careful! ” 

The gal looked at him a minute as if she wasn’t sure 
whether to laugh or git irr’tated, then says cool: 

“ Thanks so much — but since, as you’ve observed, we’re 
strangers in Las Vegas, perhaps we’d better remain so. . . . 
Ah, there’s the friend I’ve been expecting! ” 

With that she waved her hand cordial and walked to 
where a young feller in one of them city ridin’ suits with 
knee pants was getting off a hoss, and Allingham and me 
was left by ourselfs. 

“ Well,” I says, “ we can’t do no good here. Let’s go! ” 

But Allingham was staring dazed-like in the direction 
where the gal had gone. 

“ She didn’t say ’twas a relative, did she? ” he asks 

hopeful. 

“ No,” I says, “ friend was the word she used.” 

“ He’s not much to look at. I imagine she made the 
rendezvous from pity.” 

“ Mebbe they’re ingaged to be married,” I sudgested; 
“ that often makes a difference.” 

So then Allingham uttered a noath which I will omit and 
we went over to the short order lunch-room the Harvey 
House runs, and ordered a snack. 

Allingham was right silent during the meal and I figured 
he was studying about our itinery. 

“ Where do you reckon we best head for on this tour of 
ourn? ” I asked finally, and Allingham looked at me like 
he didn’t git me. 

“ Hasn’t the psychic moment came yet to decide on our 
itinery? ” I asks: “ To speak plain language, what do we 
do next? ” 


48 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Oh! ” says Allingham. “ Are you still worrying about 
that? ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ it’s a matter in which I am grately 
interested.” 

“ We’ll get on the Colorado Flyer when she pulls out,” 
he says short. “ Now don’t bother me — I’m busy.” 

With that he begins eating industrious, but I wasn’t 
satisfied. 

“ What’ll we do with our hosses and the supplies we’ve 
bought? ” 

“ I’ll wire Arnold from the train — he can take ’em out 
to the ranch and keep ’em till we get back.” 

“ But I ain’t noways convinsed that we’d ought to give up 
our idee of a hossback tour and hop this train! ” 

Allingham laid down his knife and fork and looked at 
me severe. 

“ Lem,” he says, “ that girl we saw was dressed for 
traveling. I’ve deduced from her appearance and the 
questions she asked that she’s going out on the Flyer. 
Would you let a helpless female wander through the wildest 
part of these United States without a cavalier or two to 
look after her? ” 

“ I’ve already told you this Western country ain’t nigh as 
wild as it’s depictured,” I come back. “ They don’t hardly 
ever shoot somebody here in New Mexico without good 
reason. And besides, mebbe that feller the gal met will go 
along and look out for her! ” 

“ In a riding suit? ” 

Well, I could see by now what was on Allingham’s mind. 
The gal we’d saw had took the place of the psychic moment 
we’d been waiting for, and it made me kind of riled. 

“ What do you want to let a glimp at a gal knock you 
off’n your balance thataway for? ” I asked heated. 


THE PSYCHIC MOMENT 


49 

“ Why’n’t you be temperance about wimmin the way 
I am? ... I kin always take ’em or leave ’em alone. . . . 
Another thing, we don’t know where the gal’s headed for! ” 

At this Allingham sank his forrid on his hand tired-like 
and says: 

“ What difference does our objective make, Lem? Man 
is here today and gone tomorrow! ” 

“ That may be,” I says, “ but as fur as I’m conserned 
seems like I’d feel easier if I knowed in advance where I 
was to be gone to.” 

“ You’re not the first to express the wish,” says Allingham 
more cheerful; “it’s a common by-product of human conceit. 
But to dispose of the question of our immediate destination, 
let’s leave it to luck in the person of this youthful Hebe 
who’s waiting on us! ” 

So I said I was agreeable, because it didn’t seem like 
they was nothing else to do. Then Allingham called over 
the Harvey House gal which was drawring our coffee. 

“ My young and attractive friend,” he says, “ we’re taking 
the Flyer westward and we can’t decide where to alight. 
When you consider the local stations that lie along the 
route of the Santa Fe, which pops most promptly into your 
vivacious mind? ” 

“ Holbrook,” says the gal, “ because my train was stalled 
there once on account of a hot-box. And of all the ornery, 
God-forsaken, one-horse, jawhawk burgs I ever see that 
there cemetary carries my money! ” 

“ Why, I thought it was a famous shipping center for 
the Arizona cattle country! ” says Allingham surprised. 

“ I don’t see how the cattle stand for it then, unless on 
account of their hope to be sent soon to the slotter- 
house. If they was Mexican steers they’d have started a 
revolution before now and I wouldn’t blame them neither! ” 


5 o LEM ALLEN 

So Allingham wiped his hands on his handkercher and 
bowed pleasant. 

“After that heartfelt tribute from a native daughter,” 
he says, “ we would be ungrateful if we did less than visit 
the interesting community you mention. We will leave for 
Holbrook at once.” 

“God be with you,” says the gal; “you’ll shore need 
comp’ny! ” 

So we left the lunch counter and started towards the 
train. As we were walking along Allingham begun for to 
talk. 

“ Now then, Lem, here’s where you can enlarge your 
knowledge of human nature so that sympathy will well 
from your breast and sentimentality from your writings. 
. . . There isn’t a town in the world unattractive enough to 
rouse such bias in the bosom of a young girl by just looking 
at it — there’s heart-interest connected with Holbrook for 
that maiden, you may be sure. Perhaps that was where she 
received the telegram saying her lover was wounded in the 
shooting affray; or perhaps that’s where her fiance failed to 
get the well-earned raise from the firm and had to put off 
the wedding another year. Who knows? ” 

“ I do,” I says, “ and it wasn’t nothing like you think. 
The gal was just loading you. She’s been married to 
Jasper Horn of the Vegas Drug Company for going on three 
years, and she s never been a hundred miles from this here 
railroad station in her life. I don’t reckon she ever saw 
Holbrook.” 

Instead of bein’ grateful for me puttin’ him right, Alling¬ 
ham seemed right hacked. 

“ Lem,” he says r “ you’re too confoundedly matter-of- 
fact. You’ll never be a great author till you learn to dis¬ 
regard facts. Nothing is further from Art than facts — 
unless it be figures.” 


THE PSYCHIC MOMENT 


5i 


“ We better be gittin’ on the train,” I says, because I was 
getting fed up with Allingham’s conversation. I’m right 
patient, as I’ve mentioned before, and I can listen as well 
as the next man; but it’s my idee talk hadn’t never ought 
to be a no limit game. Besides, I never let on I was a great 
author, as yet. 

“We’ll get Pullman seats,” says Allingham; “we don’t 
make Holbrook till seven-thirty tomorrow morning and 
these day coaches aren’t fit for a white man to travel in, 
let alone a popular author and his loyal coadjutor, which 
is me.” 

“ Do you think I could hold out as a popular author? ” 
I asks. “ You didn’t talk thataway a minute ago! ” 

So Allingham looked at me funny. 

“ Seems to me my first reference was to a great author. 
There’s a lot of room in between the two. . . . But let that 
pass — you’re popular with me, anyway. ... I haven’t 
told you about my moods, have I? ” 

“ No,” I says, “ you ain’t.” 

“ I’d better — because I get a mood every so often. I’ve 
got one now, as a matter of fact, and it manifests itself by 
my not being able to stand any strangers near me. I 
suppose if a stranger were to accost me I’d just about 
knock him down and jump on him.” 

“ Speaking of strangers,” I says, “ there’s that gal we 
seen on the hotel porch. She’s kissing her friend good-bye 
and climbing on the train.” 

“ Yes,” says Allingham savage, “ I was watching them.” 

Then he uttered another oath. I declare, I never seen 
him so blasphemious before. 


Chapter VII 


IN ROUT 


W E dumb on the westbound and chose a seat a little 
behind where the stranger gal was sitting. Then 
we set quiet a spell watching the sun slide down 
behind the Pecos range to the north and the sky all pink and 
green and red like this tooty-fruity ice cream. It was 
right purty of a sight and I begun to feel lonesome and 
holler inside, because I knowed it wasn’t going to last a 
grate while. And I felt as if I was going to miss the old 
ranch and the stillness of the mesa and my two hosses and 
even Andrew Jackson. He wasn’t such a bad old feller, I 
figured, once he was absent. 

Allingham had a far-away look on his face and I thought 
mebbe he was feeling about like I was, till he says: 

“ Lem, my erstwhile violent mood has changed to a 
species of hunger.” 

“ You should have ate more in the lunch room,” I told 
him; “ we won’t get no more vittils till morning.” 

“ I’m speaking of spiritual hunger,” he says impatient, 
“ I’m not myself this evening.” 

“No,” I says, “you ain’t for a fact; and I’ve been 
meaning to mention it to you when I got a chance. Not 
that I mind a feller taking a drink now and then, even 
of pro’bition whiskey. Nor I ain’t no hand to tell nobody 
what’s best for them, as a rule; because in the first place 
they won’t believe you and in the second place if they do 
they’ll hold their subsequent errors agin you like you was to 


52 


IN ROUT 


53 


blame for them. But I’ve been plumb worrited over you 
all day — you’ve been right simple off an’ on, and that’s 
the truth.” 

“ All of which is highly interesting and important,” says 
Allingham, “ but not germane. As I was saying when you 
interrupted me, I’ve a species of soul hunger which appears 
as a craving for communication with someone better and 
nobler than myself. If I could find such an one, improb¬ 
able as that contingency seems — ” 

“ Why don’t you go and talk to that stranger gal? ” I 
asked, because I’d noticed how he was glansing at her care¬ 
ful every once in so often. 

Allingham sighed heavy. 

“ She’s turned me down once. Whereas you,” he adds 
encouraging, “ haven’t suffered even a single rebuff as yet.” 

So I studied a minute. 

“I’ll make a dicker with you,” I says. “ If you’ll give 
me your word you won’t touch nothing only beer for the 
balance of the trip I’ll go and make a talk to the girl.” 

“ You’re on! ” Allingham agreed prompt, “ and good luck 
be with you! ” 

“ I ain’t never had no luck, so I done learnt how to git 
along without it,” I says, and with that I roached up my 
hair with one hand and walked up the aisle to where the 
gal was. 

She was sitting still, with her finger stickt in between 
the leaves of a book, looking out of the window at Glorieta 
Mountain, which the train was climbing on the up grade. 
When I come nigh and stopped beside of her she turned and 
looked at me inquiring. 

“ Would you mind if I addressed a few friendly remarks 
to you, ma’am? ” I says polite. 


54 


LEM ALLEN 


“ I’d be glad to have company,” she returnt prompt; 

“ won’t you sit down? ” 

So that’s what I done. 

“ I would of sot before,” I says, “ only I was scairt. I 
ain’t used to talking to stranger gals.” 

At that the gal smiled, kind of. 

“ That’s easily arranged — we’ll be friends instead of 
strangers. What would you like to talk about — anything 
in especial? ” 

“ No, ma’am, just in good humor like. ... I reckon 
mostly I just wanted to make your acquaintance. My name 
is Lem Allen and I’m a nauthor at the present.” 

“ What kind of an author, Mr. Allen? ” 

“ A novel author, ma’am,” I says. 

When I says this the gal looked at me funny like she 
thought I was loading her, but when she seen I was serious 
she asked: 

“ I see — and are you engaged in writing now? ” 

“ No, ma’am — not exactly,” I says, some hacked; “ least- 
ways I ain’t signed no regular contract. But I been corre¬ 
sponding with a gal in Oklahoma for going on three years 
and I reckon we’ll be married when I get me a stake.” 

“ Oh — that’s nice. But I mean — are you doing any 
novels just now? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” I says, “ I’m writing up a tour I’m making 
with a friend of mine, a feller by name of Allingham which 
you spoke to on the hotel porch at Vegas and setting a 
few seats back in this here car at the present moment.” 

I put this in because I figured mebbe the gal would ask 
me to fetch Allingham up so’s he could get to talk with her. 
But she didn’t seem interested. 

So then a idee come to me. 

“ I’m figuring on making interviews with prominent 


IN ROUT 


55 

people I meet and putting down what they say they think. 
And I brung a snap-shot camera along to take their pictures 
with. I would like to make an interview with you, ma’am, 
and get a picture if I can.” 

“Oh, my goodness — no! ” says the gal as if she was 
shockt. “ I was too carefully brought up to think of that. 
One of the first things I learned was never to give my 
picture to handsome young men.” 

“ I ain’t handsome,” I says. 

“ Then you must be interesting. All young men are 
either one or the other — and the interesting ones are the 
most dangerous, they say! ” 

“I ain’t dangerous only when I’m riled,” I says; “I’m 
right peaceable by nature.” 

Then the gal looked out of the window and coffed at 
her handkercher once or twice. So I wondered if she was 
West for her health, but decided not, because she had a 
good color in her face and was built otherwise like a 
quarter-hoss for speed and wind, though not gaunt hardly 
any. 

So then presently I says: 

“ If I can’t get a picture, mebbe I can make a interview? ” 

“ Oh,” she says modest, “ I’m hardly prominent enough.” 

“ I’m satisfied,” I says; “ they ain’t many prominent 
people on the train anyhow, I don’t reckon.” 

“ In that case,” she says quick, “ perhaps it’ll be enough 
if I give you an interview without words, like the song.” 

Then she laughed pleasant and I figured mebbe ’twas a 
funny song she was meaning so I says Ha! a couple or three 
times for to be sociable. And about then I happened to 
look back where Allingham was sitting and noticed he was 
making motions to me with his hands and face. But I 


LEM ALLEN 


56 

didn’t know exactly what he was trying to signify so I 
pretended not to see him. 

Then before I knowed what he was fixing to do he got 
up and walked apast where we was sitting and got a drink of 
water and then come back and sort of stopped by our seat 
and stood there smiling ingrashuningly. 

I was about to ask him why he didn’t set down, because 
I knowed that was what he wanted, but just then the 
stranger gal says to me: 

“ Isn’t it dreadful, Mr. Allen, how crowded these trains 
are? Why, two friends can’t enjoy a few moments chat 
without being interrupted! ” 

With that Allingham dispersed his smile and glansed at 
me plumb vicious and walked on apast and kicked me in the 
ankle so’s I had to hold on to it to keep from hollering. 
I was shore glad he’d promised to quit drinking. 

“ Well,” I says when I’d got my breath, “ I reckon I’d 
best be getting back to my friend. He ain’t feeling right 
peart tonight.” 

“ Nothing serious, is it? ” asked the gal casual. 

“ I dunno,” I says, because I wasn’t going to tell her 
about the drinks Allingham had taken. I’ve noticed one 
thing, gals don’t never like fellers to enjoy drinking. Seems 
like they figure we’d ought to git more pleasure from the 
intoxication of their presents. Or mebbe they jest judge it’s 
money wasted, I dunno. 

“Well, if you must go! ” says the gal then; “but tell 
me — wouldn’t you like to know something about me; my 
name — where I’m going? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” I says, “ I’d like for to know right well. 
But although I wasn’t brung up so plumb keerful — bein’ 
beat up, as you might say, mostly — still I was learnt 


IN ROUT 


57 

early that curiosity ain’t a gift should be showed off reg’lar 
in company.” 

The gal looked at me for a minute right friendly. 

“ My name’s Mary Hallock,” she says without no more 
excuses, “ my home’s in Philadelphia, and I’m getting off at 
Holbrook — ” 

She stopped sudden because I couldn’t help but give a 
startle when she let on her dest’nation was the same place 
we was headed for. 

“ Why, what in the world’s the matter? ” she asked. 

“ Nothing,” I says, “ only it give me a turn like — three 
people getting off at Holbrook the same day! ” 

Well, she colored up and for a minute I was afeared 
she was goin’ to git riled, but she depressed her feelin’s 
and says slow: 

“ Tell me — do you mean that you and Mr. Allingham 
are leaving the train at Holbrook? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” I says, “ that’s what we planned on 
doing.” 

Then before she could say something more I begun tell¬ 
ing her about how the idee of the tour had come up and 
about our living dangerous and leaving details to the 
psychic moment and that gal at the lunch counter and how 
it had been settled finally we was to git off at Holbrook. 
And by the time I’d finished the stranger gal was restin’ 
easy once more and wrinklin’ up the corner of her mouth 
like she didn’t mind what happened. 

“ So you haven’t planned your movements beyond Hol¬ 
brook? ” she asked museumly. 

“ No, ma’am,” I says, “ not as yet.” 

“Well, I’ve been more forehanded. I’m making quite 
an ambitious tour overland, south by the mail roads two 
hundred miles or more to a little town called Alma, where 


LEM ALLEN 


58 

I stop for a short time, then south again to Silver City and 
the railroad. I suppose you know the country? ” 

“ Right well/’ I says, “ and I’m here to say that when 
you’ve made your voyage you will have passed through 
the finest stretch of homespun country these United States 
boasts. It’s plumb indigenous/’ 

Then I got up to leave, because what the gal had told me 
kind of worrited me. I was wonderin’ what Allingham 
would have to say about it when I told him and how ’twould 
affect our plans. I’d heard tell that when a wumman 
walked in by the door peace flew out’n the window, though 
I never took no stock in them sayin’s. But I begun to 
think, mebbe they’s somethin’ in this one after all! 

So I shook hands with the gal and went back to where 
Allingham was sitting, but before I could make out to 
pass him the information I’d got he looked at me bitter and 
busted out: 

“ I’ve been harboring a serpent in my bosom, I see! 
Blow, blow, thou wintery wind; no matter how sharp thy 
teeth are thou’ve got nothing on a man’s ingratitude! ” 

Well, sir, it got to me under the saddle, him talking 
thataway, and I bowed up right there. 

“ Lookit here, Allingham,” I says, “ I ain’t harpied none 
about your being ascairt of that gal and sickin’ me on to 
make up to her, nor yet kicking me in the ankle till I got 
a lump the size of a neagle’s egg, nor acting for the last 
hour or so like I’d pisened your only survivin’ dotter, but 
it’s the plumb truth I’m fed up with this mood business — 
if that’s what you want to call it. It’s beginning to taste 
of the kag to me.” 

So with that Allingham dropped off his mood and 
laughed right natural. 

“ You’re right, Lem — though I’m afraid you’re lack- 


IN ROUT 


59 


ing some in the finer sensibilities. . . . However, suppose 
we compromise on dismissing the subject and mapping out 
our itinerary? ” 

So we got out the Santa Fe time-table and looked at the 
map. 

“ Fortune favors us,” says Allingham after studying it a 
spell, “ look where the Mogollon mountains are, almost 
directly south from Holbrook with the little hamlet of Alma 
nestling at their feet! What’s to hinder our heading that 
way and taking a look at the Golden Nuggett claim? ” 

I reckon I must of give a grone about then because 
Allingham looked up inquiring. 

“ You aren’t in pain, Lem? ” 

I was on the edge of tellin’ him how that gal was fixin’ 
to go to Alma but then I happened to think mebbe that 
wouldn’t have no good effects in the circumstances, so I 
just says: 

“ It’s a hard trip and li’ble to be full of irr’tations. Be¬ 
tween us and Alma lays a few hundred miles of the least 
civilized and most unappetizin’ country in the States of 
Arizona and New Mexico.” 

But Allingham didn’t seem discouraged none. 

“ I’ve heard of Alma,” he says; “ if my information was 
dependable we can’t consider our educations complete till 
we’ve been there.” 

“ I dunno as I want any more education,” I says; “ it’s 
been one of my experiences that fellers with too much 
education ain’t got time to earn their livings. They’re too 
busy sprinkling their minds with cool and refreshing 
thoughts.” 

But Allingham wasn’t lissening. After a minute he says 
absent minded: 

“ I wonder what means of transportation we’d better 
employ? ” 


6o 


LEM ALLEN 


Well, I could see plain by now that he’d made up his mind 
to get down to where Andrew’s prospect was at, and I 
wondered if mebbe he was figuring that there might be 
money in the option we’d bought after all. I thought it 
likely, because I’d begun to take notice that once you got 
behind the smoke screen of words Allingham throwed out 
to cover his thoughts with they was often a idee hid away 
underneath, where it couldn’t be easy located. 

I was still uneasy about the fact that the gal was headed 
the same way, but they wasn’t nothing I could do about 
it but keep quiet on the subject till Allingham got wind 
of the misfortune, and leave the rest to luck. 

So I says: 

“ They used to be a stage line from Holbrook to Springer- 
ville, and from there we could travel hossback down the 
valley of the Frisco to Alma. It will cost a slug of money, 
but I’ve been writin’ steady on my novel book, so mebbe by 
that time we could cash in on the results.” 

At this Allingham looked up surprised. 

“ You mean you’ve actually recorded events as they’ve 
been happening? ” 

“ Shore,” I says, “ I’m mighty nigh up to date as she 
stands.” 

So I showed him what I had wrote down and he read it 
over careful. 

“ What do you think of it? ” I asked him. 

“ I think for one thing your spelling is atroshus,” he 
says prompt, “ to say nothing of the style and punctuation. 
I’ll have to get my blue pencil into action, I fancy. As it 
stands your stuff might get by on the puzzle page, but 
nowhere else. It would be too great a tax on the patience 
of the average reader.” 

“ What kind of a reader is that? ” I asked him. 


IN ROUT 61 

So Allingham looked pleased, because he had a chance 
to explain something. 

“ The average reader,” he says, “ is an apocryphal char¬ 
acter responsible for more futile fiction than the popular 
magazines even. He is allegedly the arbiter of public 
taste, being shouldered by editors with the responsibility 
for what they print. It is said by those in his confidence 
that he likes literature of two kinds only: the cream puff 
and firecracker brands. The first species of confection he 
can bite into easily — having gums but no teeth — and 
get his visage all mussed up pleasant with hardly an effort. 
The second sort of yarn, which explodes at the end with 
an imitation noise and sends up numbers of pretty sparks, 
is conceded to fill the poor creature with a momentary 
excitement and make him think he’s alive instead of mori¬ 
bund. I forgot to say that he is usually a woman, and 
likes its literature — ” 

“ This here yarn of mine ain’t literchure,” I says. 

“ No,” says Allingham, “ it’s got that much in its 
favor. . . . Among other faults in your narrative, you 
don’t pause often enough for breath.” 

“ I’m right long-winded,” I come back. “ Once I run 
eight mile from a baar, till I found out he was headed the 
other way. But it showed what I could do if I had to.” 

“ You don’t have to. Writing is no longer an endurance 
contest — though there are still some authors who deem 
length a more important dimension than breadth. But fast 
work is the rule. A quick start and a strong finish and no 
loafing in between are the orders of the day and the astute 
intellects that attempt the arduous task of making books 
profitable.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I will bear that in my mind.” 

“ Do. ... I find that you possess a homely wit, if the 


62 


LEM ALLEN 


adjective isn’t too mild — sometimes it borders on the 
hideous. Then too, as I’ve warned you before, you have 
a habit of leaning too far forward in the direction of ve¬ 
racity, which is fatal. Truth is so much stranger than 
fiction, as a rule, that if you don’t use your imagination 
more and your memory less you will be accused of lying.” 

“ I will have right on my side,” I says. 

“ That’s of no interest to anyone but yourself — and 
your fiancee perhaps, if you lose money by it. . . . By 
the way, did you learn that girl’s name and where she 
came from? ” 

But I didn’t give him no satisfaction. 

“ I will tell you some other time,” I says, “ when the 
psychic moment arrives. I’m tired out now from lissening 
to so much information all at once.” 


Chapter VIII 


A TOUCH OF NATURE 


T HE train was late for Holbrook so we got breakfast 
on the dining car, to be on the safe side. Allingham 
seemed in a sort of fluster and kept looking at 
everyone who came in, to see if he could get a glimp of the 
stranger gal, I reckon; but she never showed up. So 
finally he begun lookin’ out’n the window at the Arizona 
scenery driftin’ by. 

“ The suburbs of Holbrook aren’t exactly congested, are 
they, Lem? ” he says reflectful. 

“ No,” I admitted, “ air and desert land is the chief 
products of the region, and they ain’t any great amount of 
money in neither. That’s likely why folks is scarce here¬ 
abouts.” 

So Allingham studied a minute. 

“ You’ve never been in California, I take it? ” 

“ I ain’t,” I says. 

“ I thought not, because if you had you’d realize what 
wonders can be accomplished by the commercial instinct 
working on the raw materials of sand and air.” 

“ How is that did? ” I asked curious. 

“ By applying water to the land and heat to the air,” 
he says absent-minded. “ I wonder what’s keeping that 
girl in bed so long — she ought not to be missing the first 
rare blush of morning’s dew-clad face — ” 

“ Mebbe she’s packin’ up to git off,” I says, because I’d 
figured during the night I’d best tell Allingham about the 

63 


6 4 


LEM ALLEN 


gal’s plans. I knowed he’d find out soon anyhow and he 
might think I’d been keeping something from him if I 
didn’t reveel what I’d heard. 

So when I says what I did he opened his eyes right wide 
and stared at me surprised. 

“ Getting off? . . . You mean — ” 

“ If you hadn’t been so full of words yesterday evenin’,” 
I explained, “ I’d of told you that’s she’s planning to light 
at Holbrook, like us.” 

Well, sir, Allingham’s teeth all showed at once and he 
got right red in the face with pleasure. It give me a turn 
to see how irrel’vent he was gittin’. That’s gal’s goin’ to 
be a torment to us yet, I says to myself. But I didn’t 
say nothing out loud, only to tell him the gal’s name and 
where she was from and about her heading for Alma. 

At that Allingham drawed a deep breath and says: 

“Mary Hallock! Mary — it’s a beautiful name! ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ it’ll do. My gal’s name is Liza.” 

But Allingham wasn’t lissening. 

“ And she’s going to Alma! . . . It’s fate, Lem — fate! ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ you can’t change the situation by 
calling it hard names. We got to make the best of it.” 

So I started eating and made out a right good breakfast 
— eggs an’ ham an’ a small steak an’ fried potatoes an’ 
rolls an’ coffee. And then seems like I felt less discouraged. 
It’s funny how often a feller kin fool hisself as to his 
prospects, by eatin’ thataway. 

Allingham was looking out of the window in the mean¬ 
while, and now seems like what he seen there didn’t 
irritate him like it had before. Then all of a sudden he 
begin mutt’ring to hisself like he was plumb daft. 

“ Into the nether wilds,” he mumbled, “ back to the 
arms of nature — across the billowing desert, out of man’s 


A TOUCH OF NATURE 65 

ken and the vices and meannesses of men with only the 
voice of Mother Earth in our ears — ” 

Just then the engine give a screech and the train begun 
to slow down and we made a jump for our seats where I’d 
left the snap-shot camera and Allingham had left his 
personal supplies. But still we didn’t see nothing of the 
gal and I begun to hope she’d been loading me about 
getting off. 

The train took on water at Holbrook so it stopped sev’el 
minutes for the refreshments and we had a chance to look 
around and size up things. And all we seen out of the 
ordrinary was a big grey automobile covered with alkali 
dust and standing by the platform with a young feller in 
a yaller dustcoat at the wheel. 

“ I wonder if that’s the car we take? ” says Allingham 
excited. 

“ Not unless they’s been grate changes made in the 
accomodation of towerists since I was here last,” I says. 

But Allingham had stepped forrard and says to the 
driver of the car: 

“ What’s the chances of going south in your bus, my 
friend? ” 

“ None — for you,” says the feller short-like, and about 
then I noticed where the stranger gal was coming towards 
us with a porter carryin’ her bags and a white veil fastened 
over her face — so her eyes wouldn’t be injured none 
lookin’ at Holbrook, I reckon. 

The young feller in the car tipped his hat and says: 

“Miss Hallock? ” And when she nodded he went on: 
“ We got your wire at Flagstaff. This was the last car 
in the garage and I just had time to drive over and meet 
you.” 

The gal nodded matter-of-fact and dumb into the car 
and says: 


66 


LEM ALLEN 


“ We’ll start at once, if you please. You know the 
roads? ” 

The feller kind of grinned. 

“ There ain’t but one,” he says, and pushed a button and 
his engine started up and drowned out Allingham, who 
was trying to say something to the gal about how dangerous 
’twould be if she didn’t have no manly protectors along. 

Then the car slid off and Allingham looked longingly 
after it, but didn’t make a move because I reckon he knew 
he wouldn’t have no chance to beat it in a race acrost the 
plains. 

“The irony of fate! ” he says bitter. “So near and 
yet so far! Who was it said ‘ Man is a little slower than 
the angels ’? ” 

“ I dunno,” I says, “ nor I ain’t keerin’ grately. We 
got things more important to be thinkin’ about than angels 
— or gals either, if it comes to that. . . . We got to find 
the stage.” 

No sooner I said that than we heard a hollering be¬ 
hind us and a right puny built team with a driver which 
looked like he was half Injun and half present but un¬ 
accounted for, like we used to say in the army, comes 
moochin’ along and drawed up by the platform. 

“ Was you lookin’ for the stage to Springerville? ” he 
asked. 

“ Yes, yes,” says Allingham impatient, “ where can we 
find it? ” 

At that the feller sort of glansed around at his rig ’sif 
to be sure it was still there and says: 

“You done found it, Stranger! ” 

Nobody said nothing for a minute and they was a brief 
pause, because the vehicle the feller was in was shore a 
mis’able contraption. 


A TOUCH OF NATURE 67 

“ You ain’t got any baggage only yourselfs, have you? ” 
he asks. 

“ No,” says Allingham. 

“ That’s good,” says the feller, “ because otherwise you 
boys might have to run along in behind.” 

So then Allingham give a sigh like he didn’t mind what 
happened and we dumb on board and the feller licked at 
the hosses with his whip and we started off ca’am and 
easy like they wasn’t no such thing as hurry in the world. 

“Well, we’re off! ” I says cheery; but Allingham didn’t 
come back in his usual lite-hearted manner. He was look¬ 
ing hard at the driver like he would of liked to have done 
him a injury. 

Finally he give another sigh and says: 

“ We’re stuck, Lem, and we’ve got to make the best of 
it, I suppose. . . . For the time being we might as well 
endeavor to draw what advantage we can from our un¬ 
enviable situation. It’s just occurred to me that you’ve 
a rare opportunity to get an interview with our shy and 
reticent Jehu. By skill and tact you may be able to worm 
a few words out of him before we reach our destination.” 

So I drawed out my blank book and pencil and was 
fixing to worm skillful like Allingham sudgested, only the 
feller didn’t give me no chance. Because just then he cut 
loose and started talking, and it’s God’s truth he didn’t 
stop for the balance of the day only to catch his breath. 
Even Mother Nature didn’t have no show to make her 
voice heard: this driver plumb occupied our ears. 

He begun with his pers’nal history from the day he was 
christened, which wasn’t so odd because a feller by the 
name he suffered with would shore remember when it was 
give him. It was Melankthun S. Barrows. He let on it 
had brought him good luck, by which mebbe he was 


68 


LEM ALLEN 


meaning he enjoyed regular audiences that couldn’t get 
away from him for two days hand-running. 

After he’d finished with his own life he took up the 
careers of his close friends and rel’tives, and when he’d done 
recounted these to his satisfaction he begun bragging on 
his hosses. He had three teams, he claimed, and they was 
all wonderful animals if this Melankthun could be believed, 
which he couldn’t, because the ponies we started with were 
plumb gaunt, so that it looked like their bones would have 
pushed through only for their hides being so tough. Ailing- 
ham says they would have been arrested for indecent ex¬ 
posure in a civilized community. 

Long towards noon Melankthun give a pause while he 
put a morsle of chewing in his mouth, so Allingham says 
quick: 

“ Do you suppose, Mr. Barrows, that there’s any chance 
of our catching up with that grey car which started just 
before us, between here and Springerville? ” 

“ Sho! ” says Melankthun keerless, “if I was to let 
these here hosses out — ” He left what would happen 
to our imaginations, I reckon; but I couldn’t think of 
nothing that would bring us up with Miss Hallock now 
unless the car was to be crippled. So I wondered what was 
Allingham’s idee mentionin’ the subject, because he looked 
plumb serious. 

“ You ain’t figurin’ on making one of them love chases 
like in the movin’ pitchers out of this tour, are you? ” 
I asked. 

“ No,” he says thoughtful, “ not exactly. But you might 
go so far as to call it a pursuit — behind difficulties.” 

He was looking hard at Melankthun’s hosses, which had 
kept up the same gait since we’d set out. It looked like 
they just leaned forrard and started to fall and then catched 


A TOUCH OF NATURE 69 

theirselfs and paused a minute surprised that they were 
still on their feet, before taking the next step. 

Melankthun glanced at Allingham right sharp, because 
as a rule fellers are touchy about their team just like about 
their wife. And it’s been one of my experiences that the 
ornerier-looking the incumbrans is the more sens’tif the 
feller’s liable to be. 

Melankthun looked like he was going to have a mood, 
and I shore hated the idea; we were having enough trouble 
as it was. But finally he says: 

“ I see you’re noticin’ that new step the hosses invented 
for theirselfs. I done named it the Hesitatin’ Dip — but 
you kin call it what you’re a mind to.” 

“ I would call it dangerous,” says Allingham. “ One 
might easily drop off to sleep under its soothing rythm and 
fall out of this rig before he knew it. I think I’ll just get 
out and stretch my legs for a bit.” 

So that’s what he done, and I jined him and we walked 
a right smart piece. But we had to wait so often for 
Melankthun to catch up that it seemed like we were 
losing time, so finally we climbed back into the stage again. 
In the meanwhile, however, Allingham had thunk up a 
plan. He was to engage Melankthun in convesation and 
when he give out I was to relay him and then when I’d 
got exhausted Allingham was to take another shift and so 
on like that till Melankthun was plumb talked out. 

So we tried the plan but it didn’t work good, because 
when he seen what we was up to Melankthun just histed his 
voice a couple of notches and hit the convesational trail 
on a high lope and before a grate while we realized we was 
licked and quit. And long about five o’clock in the after¬ 
noon we figured we’d of done better not to make Melank¬ 
thun strain his voice, for the reason that when we were 


7o 


LEM ALLEN 


yet ten miles and more from St. Johns, where we were 
to spend the night, Melankthun’s pipes give out, so that 
all he could do was to make motions with his face like he 
was yelling. And with that the team stopped also and 
couldn’t be got to move by no meens. 

We done everything we could, but ’twas no use. Them 
ornery critters just stood there in the road plumb con¬ 
tented, their eyes closed and a slite smile on their faces. 
I reckon they thought they’d walked slap into heaven. . 

Allingham and me decided not to waste no more time 
there, so we dumb out’n the stage and begun taking long 
steps to save our shoes in the direction of St. Johns. 

It wasn’t bad going for the first five or six miles, but 
long about sundown a cold wind sprung up from the north 
and come creepin’ up behind and slippin’ in between the 
chinks in a feller’s ribs, till once or twice I glanced down 
to see if my shirt wa’n’t ballooning out in front. Ailing- 
ham’s teeth was chattering with the cold, but yet he seemed 
right cheerful, mebbe because he figured he was inchin’ 
up on the gal — or mebbe because we couldn’t hear no¬ 
body’s voice only a coyote’s down a little draw to our left. 

“ How wonderful the stars are! ” Allingham says abrupt. 
“ Surely there is nothing so lovely as nature unadorned — 
in all her naked beauty! ” 

“ Nature would make more of a hit with me,” I says, 
“ if her and me was both wearing overcoats.” 

“ You’re not cold, are you? ” asks Allingham like he 
was surprised. 

“ No,” I says sarcastic, “ I reckon ere long I’ll shiver up 
a sweat! ” 

So Allingham looked at me discouraged. 

“ Where is your poet’s soul, Lem? ” he asks reproachful. 


A TOUCH OF NATURE 


7 1 


“ It’s where my luck is, I reckon,” I says, “ and if you 
can locate that I’ll split with you and no questions asked.” 

But Allingham didn’t have no comeback. 

“ I would like,” I says, “ to have some of them nature 
lovers here now with no more clothes on than we’ve got. 
I’ve heard tell they’s a lot of books about the pleasures of 
communin’ first hand with nature, but it’s my notion them 
books was wrote in a warm room with a fire burning and 
mebbe, if the writer had a independent income, a sideboard 
handy. Being close to the soil is all right if you got a 
couple of seasoned planks between you an’ it. Other¬ 
wise not.” 

“ Well,” says Allingham short, “ I’ll be glad to discuss 
the point with you further as soon as we get out of this 
confounded wind. . . . But yonder are the lights of St. 
Johns! ” 

So we stopped arguring about nature till we could get 
indoors and talk comfortable. 


Chapter IX 


NIGHT LIFE IN ST. JOHNS 

W E made a bee-line for the hotel when we got 
into St. Johns, me because I was hungry and 
Allingham because he figured he might find out 
something about the stranger gal. 

“ It’s possible she may stop over the night in town,” he 
says hopeful, “ and rest up from the fatigues of the journey 
before going on to Springerville.” 

But we found she’d only stopped off long enough to git 
a noon snack at the hotel and had left directly afterward. 

“ She’d ought to be in Springerville by now,” the clerk 
at the hotel said. “ Was you friends? ” 

“ Yes, indeed,” says Allingham, “ old and dear friends. 
I can’t tell you how disappointed Miss Hallock will be if 
we don’t catch up with her. By the way, could we get a 
car here by any chance — to follow on with? ” 

The clerk, which was a tired-looking feller bitin’ on 
a toothpick, shook his head slow. 

“ The stage leaves here in the morning — Melankthun S. 
Barrows drivin’. I reckon that’s your best bet.” 

“ He’s broke down,” I says, “ ten miles or so outside of 
town. We come that far with him from Holbrook, and 
hoofed it the rest of the way.” 

“ Don’t let that worry you,” says the feller, smilin’ 
languid, “ Melankthun always breaks down there. He’s 
got a gal in the hills near by. He’ll be along tomorrow.” 
So Allingham give a sigh. 


72 


NIGHT LIFE IN ST. JOHNS 73 

“ We’re out of luck, Lem,” he says. “ We might as 
well get a room and bath and eat something.” 

“ Let’s eat something first — why not? ” I sudgested. 

But the clerk had took a key down from a nail and 
started towards the stairs. On the way he poked his head 
into the kitchen and hollers: “ Heat up a kittle of hot 
water, Jerry. Gent wants a bath.” Then he looked at me 
and Allingham more keerful. “ An’ send up a piece of 
soap,” he adds, “ it’s a special.” 

He might have saved this Jerry his trouble, howsom- 
ever, because when we got to our room we found the 
temper’ture consida’ble less than ’twas outside, so we put 
off the bath and compromised on washing our hands and 
faces in the water pail. Then we went down and started 
for to eat. 

Allingham acted absent-minded for a spell, till he’d got 
the major’ty of his steak swallered. 

“ I’ve been thinking,” he says then, “ how we could 
make a hit with Miss Hallock.” 

“ That’s easy,” I says, “ all we got to do is stay the 
present distance from her. She’d take it right kindly, I 
wouldn’t wonder.” 

“ Nonsense. . . . We’ve got to assume her present atti¬ 
tude is dictated by maidenly modesty. Our cue is to show 
a little spirit and dash — arrange a coup — dazzle her with 
some heroic gesture of self-immolation.” 

He rolled hisself a cigareet and begun puffing right 
feverish. 

“ For instance,” he says bright, “ you could hold up her 
car and I could appear in the nick of time and rescue her 
and that fresh driver of hers. She’d naturally be lost in 
gratitude and — ” 

“ How would I git in front of the car? ” I says. 


74 


LEM ALLEN 


So Allingham looked right put out. 

“ It’s just an idea — ” 

“ An’ a right pore one,” I says; “ what’s more if there’s 
any holduppin’ to be did you got to take the heavy part. 
I ain’t in the business.” 

Then I seen where Allingham was looking interested 
over my head and I turned around and coming towards us 
was a young feller right norrow between the shoulders and 
wearing one of them belt suits from Norfalk, Va., and a 
pair of round eyeglasses. 

The feller come up to the table and set down prompt 
and begun smiling at us pleasant. 

“ This is great,” he says cheerful, “ two interviews in 
one day! The St. Johns Clarion will be able to get out 
an extra if this keeps up. Who are you gents and where 
are you from and do you know anything about the pro¬ 
jected railroad through St. Johns? ” 

“ If there’s a railroad coming through St. Johns,” says 
Allingham cold, “ all I hope is it’s here the next time we 
make the same error. . . . Did you say something about 
another interview? ” 

“Yep. . . . Miss Hallock — lady capitalist from the 
East — may return to settle in St. Johns when her present 
tour is concluded — thinks St. Johns women more beauti¬ 
ful than Philadelphia girls and better dressed than 
Parisians. . . . Have you gents business in these parts or 
are you traveling for pleasure? ” 

“ Neither,” says Allingham, “ you might say we’re 
traveling for our health.” 

“Shake! ” says the young feller cordial. “My name’s 
Griggs and I come out here four years ago last winter. 
Yes, sir, four years ago I left that pest hole New York 
with six months to live — and now look at me! The 


NIGHT LIFE IN ST. JOHNS 75 

picture of health, to say nothing of being sole owner, pub¬ 
lisher, editorial staff and compositor of the livest little 
weekly in the State. And me only four years in God’s 
country! ” 

“ If this is God’s country,” says Allingham, “ he must 
manage it by deputy, because it’s surely in a lamentable 
state of disrepair. And what’s more, don’t take what I 
said about our health in a technical sense. We’re not 
lungers.” 

“Let’s get the interview over with,” says Griggs short; 
“ we go to press next Tuesday.” 

So then a idee come to me. 

“ How’ll you swop interviews? ” I asks, pulling out my 
pad and pencil, “ I been trying to make one ever since we 
started from Vegas on a tour to make a book out’n, and 
I ain’t had no luck at all.” 

Griggs begun writing fast when I says this and when I 
give a pause he says: 

“Yes, yes — go on. Famous novelist seeks copy in 
St. Johns scorning less intriguing fields — ” 

“ Make it two novelists,” put in Allingham, “ and be sure 
and note down that we’re after facts not fables. We want 
to paint an accurate picture of the West of today down 
to the last dangerous detail. We would breathe deep of its 
free spirit, taste its zest, learn at first hand of its adventure, 
its romance — ” 

“Hold on! ” broke in Griggs doubtful, “You’ve been 
reading some of those cowboy books, I’m afraid! ” 

At that Allingham drawed hisself up dignified. 

“ I’ll admit I’ve dipped into the bibliography of the 
subject a bit.” 

“ Well,” says Griggs, “ the first thing you’ve got to do is 
forget all those preconceptions. The West might have 


LEM ALLEN 


76 

been wild a generation or so ago, and then again it mightn’t 
— I wasn’t here at the time. But now all that Woof! 
Woof! stuff is bunk. As a matter of fact us Westerners are 
right progressive and up-to-date in all important details. 
We’ve got banks and business and motion pictures and 
pro’bition so-called and all the other earmarks of modern 
civilization. Why, you can get skun out of your money 
here just as slick as if you was standing in the middle of 
Broadway, New York! ” 

Allingham looked kind of disappointed when Griggs said 
this. 

“ You ought to know, Mr. Griggs,” he says regretful, 
“ but I must confess I’d hoped for something different. I 
thought to encounter at least one carefree cowboy on a 
grey pacer, with steely blue eyes, a quick hand on the 
trigger, and seven or eight notches on the butts of his two 
low-hung six guns. And I’d set my heart on meeting a 
cowgirl fresh as the rose-dawn, high-spirited as a frolic¬ 
some colt but true-hearted at need as the unyielding oak. 
In brief, I’d looked to find here in the unspoiled sons and 
daughters of the open a vision wide and uncircumscribed 
as the eternal plains, something of that sublime courage 
which scorns all odds, rejoices in the thought of peril, bows 
only at the grim curtain call of death.” 

“ Why,” says Griggs surprised, “ what did you think we 
were, a lot of savages? ” 

“ Whatever I thought,” Allingham says reflectful, “ I see 
I’ll have to reconstruct my ideas a trifle.” Then seems like 
he got another notion, because he adds more cheerful: 
“ Of course if one can’t get adventures to meet him half 
way he can always start something on his own hook. . . . 
Suppose, Mr. Griggs, we adjourn the present conference 
and take in a little of the night life of St. Johns! ” 


NIGHT LIFE IN ST. JOHNS 77 

“ Sure,” says Griggs, “ that can be done. I’m game to 
play pilot.” 

“ Will you join us, Lem? ” Allingham asks polite. 

“ No,” I says, “ I’ve had a right wearin’ day, what with 
one thing and another. I’m going to turn in.” 

So that’s what I done, though I laid awake a spell 
wondering if Allingham was figuring on breaking his pledge 
and getting drunk; because I’d noticed he was one of those 
fellers they call generous to a fault — long as it’s one of 
their own. 

Then I got thinking about how I hadn’t got my inter¬ 
view with Griggs after all; but still it wouldn’t of been 
wuth nothing, I says to myself, because all him and Alling¬ 
ham had been doing was lying to each another so’s to 
make a hit with theirselves. So finally I thought, well, 
I better give up interviews and just write down how folks 
act and what they say natural and let it go at that. . . . 
And then I didn’t know no more till morning. 


Chapter X 


PERILS BY THE WAY 

W HEN I waked up in the morning I looked around 
and seen Allingham’s bed was empty and hadn’t 
been slep' in and I begun to get right worrited. I 
remembered his talking about night life and adventures 
and such like and I figured mebbe he’d met up with some¬ 
thing or other. Then I heard them beating on the break¬ 
fast tray so I decided I wasn’t doing no good laying there 
soaking in bed, so I riz up and went downstairs and found 
Griggs of the St. Johns Clarion setting at the breakfast 
table with his head in his hands and groaning. 

“ Whereabouts did you leave Allingham? ” I asked. 

“ Nowheres,” says this Griggs, “ he left me. In the 
lurch he left me — and I’ve hardly extricated myself as 
yet, if you must know.” 

“ Is it a saloon — the Lurch? ” I asked. 

So Griggs groned some more and says: 

“ It isn’t a place at all, it’s a condition.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ if anybody left me in a condition like 
what you’re in I believe I’d git satisfaction.” 

That’s what I’ve been trying to get out of this break¬ 
fast, but still I’m not getting any more than I can rest 
easy under.” 

“ You ain’t told me where Allingham went to yet.” 

“ Because I don’t know — though I’ve got the place in 
mind I wish he’d gone to. Since we left you last night 
I’ve been propped up against the bar in Jack’s Place playing 

7S 


PERILS BY THE WAY 


79 


host in the game of seeing St. Johns double, and trying 
to get facts for a story. And the only facts I come away 
with this morning was that this friend of yours has hollow 
legs and I ain’t.” 

“ Allingham’s quit drinking,” I says. 

“ So have I,” says Griggs earnest, “ for good.” 

“ What was you all taking last night? ” 

“Beer — they call it: if they was a shorter and uglier 
word it should be rechristened. I haven’t felt so bad since 
the Clarion lost its fight for local option a few years ago 
and the editorial staff and friends tried to put the licker 
interests out of business by retail purchases in quantities. 
They were too strong for us.” 

Well, I was glad to learn Allingham hadn’t been taking 
no hard stuff, but yet I was some anxious to find out what 
kind of a adventure he’d imbarked on — because seems 
like that was the only way to explain the fact that he was 
missing from our midst at the moment. 

So I says: 

“ Take another drag on your cigareet and see if you 
can’t remember what happened — more detailed.” 

Griggs pressed his hand agin his forrid right hard and 
thunk manful. Then he shaken his head a time or two like 
it wasn’t no use. 

u He took my hoss for to ride on ahead with,” he says 
slow, “ and I believe he asked me to tell you to be sure to 
come on by the stage.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I aim to. It’s easier than walking. 
Did he say anything about trying to catch up with some¬ 
body? ” 

Griggs slapped his hand on his knee and looked more 
intelligent than before. 

“ I believe there was some such idea. He kept talking 


So 


LEM ALLEN 


about a stern chase being a long chase and never say die 
and where there’s a will there’s a way and similar texts. 
Also he mentioned an engagement he had at Springerville.” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ if the engagement ain’t moved some- 
wheres else by the time he gits there. Was that all?” 

“ I couldn’t say for sure,” says Griggs doubtful, “ I have 
a faint recollection of a story for the Clarion and a bet we 
made and a lot of laughter about what was scheduled to 
take place — ” 

Griggs stopped sudden, because just then the landlady 
of the hotel, which was a right slim gal reachin’ on towards 
forty or such a matter, came in with my serial food, and 
says to Griggs: 

“ Lemme lift you another cup of coffee, Mr. Griggs — or 
kin I bile you a couple more of them eggs? ” 

“ No ma’am,” says Griggs, “ not with safety.” 

At that the landlady looked at the eggs Griggs hadn’t 
ate and says: 

“ If they ain’t right tasty I kin scramble them, Mr. 
Griggs! ” 

Then Griggs sort of shoved back from the table looking 
pale, and mumbled somethin’ sounded like cuss words and 
the landlady begun dabbin’ at her eyes and says: 

“ That’s right — run down my food! Here I be, workin’ 
to feed you the best the markets afford till my fingers is 
wore off clean to the elbones and all the gratitude I gits 
is you stayin’ up till all hours carousin’ and ruinin’ your 
health which is pore anyhow. Men is cruel creatures and 
a woman’s heart is brittle and easy broke! ” 

With that she begun to cry pitiful and run out’n the 
room and Griggs got right red in the face. I thought for 
a minute he was ashamed of hisself, but when he begun 
talking I seen it was just that he was struggling for self- 


PERILS BY THE WAY 


81 


expression. It must of been hard, because it taken him 
sev’el minutes and a lot of words before he was satisfied 
— and then seems like he’d expressed the landlady more 
complete than him. 

“ Why don’t you comfort the gal instead of swearing 
thataway? ” I says. “ A man had ought to show respect for 
the feebiller sex, specially if they is old and helpless. You 
had a mother once yourself.” 

“ Yes,” says Griggs, “ but I ain’t lookin’ for another.” 
And with that he run out’n the room and slammed the door 
savage. 

Then I looked around and seen the landlady standing 
there with my eggs in her hand and a fierce glanse in her 
eyes. 

“ What was you sayin’, Mr. Allen? ” she asks. “ I didn’t 
jest catch it.” 

I started to tell her, because I enjoy being truthful when 
they ain’t no good reason agin it, but then I happened to 
think here was a good chance to practise diplomacy, which 
Allingham says is the art of lying with a straight face. 
So I says: 

“ I was telling Griggs how if I was him I wouldn’t never 
leave this breakfast room, long as I was welcome here. 
When a man can feast both his innards and his eyes at 
once, the first on rich and nurrishen food and the second 
on such a pictur’ of youth and beauty as what I see before 
me, he’s a plumb fool for luck.” 

Well, the landlady smiled pleasant and come over 
and set down beside of me, and I begun to get right fidgetty. 

“ Mebbe I been too diplomatic,” I says to myself, but I 
didn’t say nothing out loud, only ate my eggs. 

“ Don’t you want I should make you some toast, Mr. 
Allen? ” the landlady asks coaxin’. 


8 2 


LEM ALLEN 


“ No, ma’am,” I says, “ I wouldn’t wish for any.” 

So then she inched up a couple of feet closeter and says: 

“ You goin’ to stay with us in St. Johns long? ” 

“ I’m leaving this morning,” I says. 

“ You should stop here a spell and rest you. When I 
think on it, a nice young feller like you ought to git married 
and settle down.” 

“ I got a gal in Oklahoma already,” I says; “ we’re goin’ 
to git married when I kin raise a stake.” 

Well, sir, when I says that the landlady jumped up and 
give me a right hard look. 

“ So! ” she says cold. “ You’re to be married! And you 
rompin’ round like you was free an’ deceivin’ hundreds of 
trustin’ wimmin that ain’t s’rewd enough to see through 
your treach’rous ways! You men is all the same — I 
wouldn’t take no stock in you if shares was sellin’ for 
nothin’ on the dollar. . . . The clerk at the desk outside 
will hand you your bill afore you leave! ” 

Then she flounced out’n the room indignant and I paid 
my bill at the desk and went out to hunt up Melankthun, 
and before a grate while I heard a voice like one of them 
sirens blowing noon and knowed I didn’t have to hunt no 
further. 

The stage stood by the post office, with Melankthun 
waving his whip good-natured and hollering for me to 
hurry up. They call it thirty-five miles from St. Johns to 
Springerville, which was the end of the stage line, but 
when I seen what Melankthun had hitched into the traces 
I would of walked only for having paid my fare in advance. 
One of them beasts looked more like a mule than a hoss 
and t’other more like a hoss than a mule, and both on ’em 
looked as if they would of sunk down in their tracks only 
for the harness holding them in place. 


PERILS BY THE WAY 


83 

But Melankthun didn’t seem discouraged none, because 
after I’d told him about Allingham riding on ahead and had 
dumb up on the seat beside him, he p’inted at the team 
proud and says: 

“ Ain’t them magniffercent critters? Lookit how they 
chomp on their bits and strain at the breechin’s eager to 
be off! ” 

“ Tell ’em Giddap and see if they’re real,” I says, “ they 
don’t look right plausible to me.” 

Then I didn’t say no more because Melankthun started 
in talkin’ where he left off the day before and kept a-goin’ 
steady till I must of dropped off to sleep, because long 
towards evening as we were movin’ through a patch of 
foothill timber I started awake sudden at a strange voice 
coming from the road ahead. 

“ Hands up! ” the voice says loud, and there I seen a 
feller on hossback with chaps and a black mask on and 
two six-guns p’intin’ at us right snaky. So Melankthun 
and me put up our hands like the feller said. 

I was right surprised and begun to figure Griggs hadn’t 
knowed what he was talking about when he claimed there 
wasn’t no adventures in the region. Here I’d made a 
hairbreadth escape from the landlady of the St. Johns 
House and was caught in a holdup on the same day, and 
night not come yet! 

The holdup feller kicked his hoss a step or two nearer 
and says gruff: 

“ Turn over your weapons and valuables pronto! Make 
haste, or I’ll drill you two hombres! ” 

“ I ain’t got no weapons,” says Melankthun shaky-like, 
“ nor I ain’t got no valuables — I’m carry in’ the mail ” 

“ How about you — the homely one?” asks the feller, 
p’intin’ at me. 


84 


LEM ALLEN 


“ I got nothing would be no good to you,” I says, “ ’less’n 
it was advice to quit breakin’ the law and molestin’ two 
peaceable citizens going about their business.” 

“ Silence! ” hollers the feller. “ If you’ve got any money 
you’d best drop it out on the ground before I fill you full 
of holes! ” 

Well, the feller’s guns looked right convinsing and I 
couldn’t think up no plan at the moment except to do like 
he said. So I turned my pockets inside out onto the high¬ 
way, only holding out ten or fifteen dollars agin emergencies. 

“ There,” I says plumb riled, “ I hope you spend it 
foolish! ” 

“ Hoi’ on! ” whispered Melankthun. “ Don’t sass him so 
strong! What’s a few dollars when our two lives is at 
stake? ” 

I was just thinking up something to say that would of 
cut Melankthun deep, when the holdup feller finished 
counting my money and says: 

“ Quit whisperin’, you two, and listen to me — I got to 
make my getaway yet.” 

“ Lemme know if we kin holp you,” I says sarcastic. 

Then Melankthun, seeing they wasn’t no real danger, 
says grumblin ’: 

“ If you was a gent you would of thought twice before 
stoppin’ us here, late as it’s gettin’. I wouldn’t wonder if 
’twas nine or ten o’clock before we hit town. Mebbe you 
think it’s a pleasure settin’ here in the cold with the 
shadders of night creepin’ closeter and closeter! ” 

“ After I get gone,” the feller come back, “ you can start 
those varmints of yours creepin’ too. If you whip ’em 
proper I wouldn’t be surprised if you could yet outdistance 
the shadows! ” 

Well, Melankthun got right peckish when the feller says 


PERILS BY THE WAY 85 

this and forgot to be steered; but the feller just laughed 
at his language. 

Then he looked at me. 

“ Take that tie-rope and fasten it round your loud friend’s 
hands and feet,” he says; “ then take your neck handker¬ 
chief and draw it fast across his mouth. I’m afraid they’ll 
hear him yelling in Springerville, and I can’t take chances 
on getting caught up! ” 

So that’s what I done, though I thought the holdup feller 
would have to shoot Melankthun before he’d stay still to 
be tied. 

“ I’ll git square with you if it takes a year,” he says to 
me vicious. 

“ Sho! ” I says, “ you’d oughtn’t to make such a fuss over 
the loss of a few words when both our lives is at stake! ” 

So he tried to bite me on the finger but I was too quick 
for him. 

Then the holdup feller asks: 

“ Can I trust you not to untie the pris’ner till you get 
to town? ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ though it hurts me more’n it does him.” 

I put that in because I was wanting Melankthun to see I 
sympathized with him, but I don’t reckon he appreciated 
the kindness because he got red in the face and strained at 
the rope till I was afeared it would bust. So I just taken 
another wrop or two around his hands and feet. I wasn’t 
going to break my promise even if it was forced out of me 
at the p’ints of a couple of guns. I’m plumb hon’able 
thataway. 

While I was taking the extry wrops the holdup feller 
backed his hoss off down the road a piece and then turned 
and loped off and disappeared in the distance. And I drove 


86 


LEM ALLEN 


on into Springerville, though I couldn’t make good head¬ 
way on account of being afraid of jouncing Melankthun. 
So it taken four or five hours to get in. 

When I reached the plaza I drew up at the post office, 
where a crowd of folks was waiting round pretending they 
was expecting mail. 

“ What happened? ” they hollered when they seen us. 
“ Did Melankthun hurt hisself? ” 

11 We was held up,” I says, “ and Melankthun was tied 
down. I had to promise the holdup feller I wouldn’t untie 
him till we hit town.” 

At this junction a big feller with a black Stetson on, 
which I afterwards learnt was postmaster and sheriff and 
owner of the gen’ral store, stepped out and asks: 

“ Did the bandit specify what part of town? ” 

“ No. He didn’t mention.” 

a Because,” the feller went on, “ you been in the town 
limits now for a mile or more.” 

“ How was I to know that? ” I says. “ They wasn’t no 
sign pasted on the prairie. . . . But if you think Melank¬ 
thun is sufferin’ I ain’t got no objections to your taking the 
rope off’n him yourself. It ain’t a grate deal to me one 
way or the other.” 

“ You got a lot of sympathy, ain’t you? ” 

“ If you’d been listening to that stage driver talk as long 
as I have,” I come back, “ you wouldn’t worry none over 
his situation, I’ll gamble. . . . However,” I says, when I 
noticed sev’el of the punchers edgin’ in, “ to satisfy you all 
I ain’t cold-hearted, I’ll untie him.” 

So that’s what I done, and for a consid’able period 
Melankthun just lay where he was and let the words gush 
forth like one of them geysers, whilst the women and 


PERILS BY THE WAY 


87. 

children run in the post office and the men crowded closeter 
up so’s not to miss nothing. 

And would you believe it, after me untying him and all, 
that ungrateful critter aimed most of his remarks at me? 

When he paused for breath I says calm-like: 

“ Melankthun, you’ve done said enough for the time 
being. You’d best save what stren’th you got left for what’s 
cornin’; because while I’m patient by nature I’ve got my 
limitations and you’ve already went apast them a mile 
and more.” 

“ That’s the talk,” says the sheriff cheerful, like it weren’t 
nothing serious which it were. “ Fly to it! ” he says. 

Then he cleared a space where we could be alone with 
each another and we begun to quar’l. 

First I made a pass or two at Melankthun and then he 
jumped for me and after that we had right smart of a jam 
for fifteen minutes or such a matter. Till finally my youth 
and clean livin’, as the feller says — or mebbe the fact that 
I hit him more often — told agin Melankthun and he said 
he was satisfied. So we shook hands and wiped the dirt 
off’n our faces and inquired whereabouts the local boot¬ 
legger held out. 


Chapter XI 


THE OUTLAW UNMASKED 

M E and Melankthun was right popular with the 
Springerville fellers after the entertaining we done 
for them, so it wasn’t long before we were intro¬ 
duced to a place where they could return the pleasure. 
It was a right nice saloon for the size of the town, being 
tasty built out’n dobey blocks mixed with straw and with 
a American flag on the roof for a landmark like. Over 
the door was a sign that said, “ Hotel Annex,” and be¬ 
hind the bar when we got in was a motter like they work 
in worsted about God Help Our Home and such like, 
only this one said, “ Don’t Ask For Credit We Ain’t Got 
None.” 

Along the wall opposite the bar was a hitching rail 
about as high as a man’s chest. 

“ What for is that rail for? ” I asked the bartender, a 
fat feller with a smooth-shaved face and a auburn nose. 

“ There’s a customer will be usin’ it directly,” he says, 
pointing to a scraggly-built feller with little covering on 
only what growed natural. This feller seemed right drunk, 
because he was singin’ to hisself and enjoying it, 
apperiently. “ It’s Dingbat Jones, the trapper,” explains 
the bartender; “he’s a periodical — issued every three 
months or such a matter.” 

“ I’m a tough little hoss to ride! ” says this Dingbat 
when he seen me lookin’ at him. 


88 


THE OUTLAW UNMASKED 89 

“ I wouldn’t wonder! ” I says polite. So then he taken 
another drink and slid to the floor, plumb down. 

“ Now watch! ” says the bartender, and he drug the 
feller over to the hitching rail and hung him onto it by 
the arms. Then he stepped off a pace or two and glansed 
at the effect admiring. 

“ Y’see? ” he says. “ By parking them thataway when 
they gits useless it keeps ’em out’n the sawdust where 
folks has to walk. Another thing, they kin find their- 
selves easy when they come out’n their trance.” 

“ It’s a right handy invention,” I had to admit, and the 
bartender looked pleased and bought a round on the 
house. Then I begun to wonder where was Allingham, 
because I didn’t have a grate deal of money left. 

“ You ain’t seen a stranger in town this afternoon, have 
you? ” I asked the bartender. 

“ They was three,” he says, “ a gal and a chuffer in a 
big grey car that got in last night and left for Alma this 
mornin’ by the East rout — ” 

“ What! ” I says interested. “ Was they here? ” 

“ Yep. . . . Then they was a slim-built feller blowed in 
a couple of hours back which talked continual. . . .” 

“ That should of been Allingham.” 

“ Well, he’s went over to the hotel to bed. Said he 
had a hard couple or three days work behind him. Was 
he a friend of yourn? ” 

So I hesitated, thinkin’ of how Allingham had skipped 
off leavin’ me alone with Melankthun for a hull day. 

“ He was a friend,” I says, “ but I dunno is he one 
still. I got to have a talk with him first.” 

With that I left the crowd at the saloon and went over 
to the hotel. 

The hotel was run by a old feller named Hosford Hippie, 


90 


LEM ALLEN 


which I found settin’ up in the best room with a quilt 
over his shoulders and his feet in a tub of hot water. 

After we’d passed the time o’ day I asked him what 
he was ailin’ with and he let on it wa’n’t none of my 
business, which was no more’n the truth, so I asks could 
I get a room. 

“ I’m lookin’ for a feller by name of Allingham,” I says. 

“Ah! ” says this Hosford, “ and a pleasant, polite-spoke 
young feller which offers information ’stead of askin’ it. 
He come in an hour or so ago. . . . Loosy!” he calls 
out to a gal working in the kitchen. “ Take this stranger 
up to number Sixty-four! ” 

The gal come to the doorway, wiping her hands on her 
apron. 

“ Ain’t you never goin’ to leave that tub, Paw? ” she 
asks. “ Your childblanes should be plumb soffent by now! ” 

“Never mind me,” snaps the old feller irr’table; “take 
this here guest upstairs.” 

So we went upstairs to Sixty-four, a big room with two 
beds in it and somebody asleep in one of ’em. When I 
looked close I seen it was Allingham. 

“You’ll have to bunk with him,” says the gal; “the 
other bed is spoke for.” 

“ What! ” I says. “ Have you got sixty-four rooms 
full? ” 

“ No,” says Loosy, laughing, “ that’s just an idee of 
Paw’s—we begin numberin’ them at sixty! ” 

With that she left and I stepped over and shook Alling¬ 
ham. 

After a bit he opened his eyes languid and mutters: 

“ You can draw my bath, Pembroke — and don’t dis¬ 
turb me again till it’s ready! ” 


THE OUTLAW UNMASKED 


9i 


Well, sir, I got right riled when he says that, and 
grabbed the bedclothes and pulled them off the bed. 

“ I done fit one fight today and I might as well make a 
clean-up while I’m in the humor,” I says; “ I got a few 
questions to put to you first, though. What for did you 
chouse off ahead and leave me to undergo Melankthun and 
his team clean from St. Johns here? ” 

Allingham set up in bed blinkin’ sleepy, then yawned 
and pulled the bedclothes back over hisself. 

“ That’s so,” he says, “ you have had an ordeal since 
I saw you last. How did you make out? ” 

“ How did I make out? Well, for one thing we was 
held up on the way and all my money was stole, only 
a few dollars I helt out for luck.” 

“ Don’t tell me you cheated the footpad! ” says Alling¬ 
ham severe. “ After all the work he must have had to 
get you to shell out! ” 

Then he begun smiling and I decided he was being 
humorous, so I got plumb disgusted and quit talking and 
made ready for bed. But I clean forgot about the feller 
which had spoke for the other bed, so I climbed into it 
and fell asleep before the idee come to me that I hadn’t 
no right in it. 

Seems like ’twas only a couple of minutes before I 
come awake again and seen the outlines of somebody 
standing in the middle of the room, swaying backwards 
and forrards and cussin’ to hisself. For a minute I was 
right took aback, because I recognized by the voice it 
was that feller Dingbat Jones, the trapper, which I’d seen 
in the saloon. And I noticed he’d got undressed and was 
making for the bed I was in. 

About that time he caught a glimp of me. 

“ Who all’s that in my bed I done paid for? ” he says 
fierce. 


92 


LEM ALLEN 


“ The problem ain’t hopeless/’ I come back soothing, 
“ you kin adjust anythin’ in time except hanging! ” 

Then I started to get up but I noticed the feller had 
drawed out a clasp-knife about a foot long and was 
dancing round and cussin’ some more, so I decided to 
stay in bed where it was warmer. 

“Woof! ” says this Dingbat. “I’m a wolf an’ plumb 
hungry for blood! ” 

He kept on dancing round and I didn’t say nothing, 
because I couldn’t think what it would be. 

Then all of a sudden I heard Allingham moving cautious, 
and the first thing I knowed he give a lep out of bed, 
waving a couple of six-guns round his head and hollering: 

“ Doggone it, I ain’t been to bed for a month without 
killin’ a man first — seems like I can’t get to sleep 
nohow! ” 

Well, Dingbat give one look at Allingham and grabbed 
up his pants and snook out’n the door quiet, and Alling¬ 
ham sat down on his bed and laughed fit to kill. Then 
he stopped laughing sudden and held up a pair of over¬ 
hauls and says, “ Holy Hossifat! ” 

“ What’s the matter? ” I asked surprised. 

“ Get your clothes on quick as you can, Lem! And 
chase after that burglar — he’s got my trowsis! ” 

“ Sho! ” I says ca’am. “That ain’t nothin’ to get het 
up over. You can likely retrieve them in the mornin’ — 
besides, you got his’n.” 

“In the morning — hell!” yells Allingham plumb 
vi’lent. “ You don’t understand — in one of the pockets 
of those missing garments there’s a black handkerchief 
with holes in it, which a certain bandit wore this after¬ 
noon for a mask. And as soon as that drunken marauder 


THE OUTLAW UNMASKED 


93 

who just left finds it, there’ll probably be a sheriff and 
posse on my trail.” 

So I looked at him surprised. 

“ What! ” I says. “ Was you the holdup feller? ” 

“ Yes — but don’t stand there staring. Get your 
clothes on and see what you can do! ” 

Well, I begun to dress slow and careful, because I didn’t 
want to go out that time of night ’less’n I was fit to be 
seen; and then I begun to think of all the worritin’ I’d 
done on account of the money Allingham had taken — and 
here t’was all in fun. 

So I says: 

“ This would be a right good time for you to explain 
how come you got the idgit notion to play holdup that- 
away. They’d ought to be a good reason for making all 
that trouble for a friend. I don’t know as I feel like 
venturin’ out in the cold night air to save your reputation 
unless I kin be satisfied you got clean hands in the matter 
of your motives.” 

Allingham sunk back on the bed and give a wave of 
his hand resigned-like. 

“ ’Twas just a bet I made with Griggs of the St. Johns 
Clarion the other night in Jack’s Place. We were drink¬ 
ing a little beer and I got to feeling adventurous and 
wagered I’d furnish a front page story for him before the 
week was out.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ you’ll likely win.” 

So Allingham hove a sigh. I declare, it struck me right 
humorous — the jam he’d got hisself into, and I begun 
to laugh hearty. 

“ Immagine how surprised the sheriff will be when he 
lights on that black handkercher! ” I says. “ I’d give fifty 
dollars to see it, for a fact! ” 


94 


LEM ALLEN 


So Allingham looked at me right funny. 

“ You’ll give more than that, I’m afraid,” he says, 
“before the affair’s settled. Because in the other pocket 
of those trowsis is the money I took from you.” 

“What!” I says, jumping up and slipping on my 
pants hasty. “ Why’n’t you say so before? This here’s 
a plumb serious matter.” 

Then I busted out after Dingbat without no more words 
said. 

I found him over to the saloon in the midst of a crowd, 
and the sheriff standing there with the black handkercher 
in one hand and my money in the other. 

“ Here,” I says, “ that’s my money. The feller that 
owns them pants Dingbat’s got on just told me so.” 

“Aha!” says the sheriff. “The outlaw! Why didn’t 
you take him into custody? ” 

“ Because I wanted to git my money first,” I says. 

“ Tut, tut! ” says the sheriff, like I’d given him some 
sass. “ This ain’t your money no longer. It ain’t money 
at all now — it’s evidence.” 

“ I don’t keer what you call it,” I says, “ long as I git 
the spendin’ of it.” 

So the sheriff sort of hefted the roll up and down gentle 
and says: 

“ Would you ruther spend it in jail as an accessory 
beside the facts or not spend it in liberty an’ the pur¬ 
suit of your way hence? ” 

So I didn’t say nothing more at the moment, the way 
the punchers kept crowdin’ in on me, and after a minute 
the sheriff put the money in his pocket and started toward 
the hotel and the rest all follered, Dingbat and me taking 
up a couple of convenient positions in behind. 

We walked up the hallway of the hotel quiet, and 


THE OUTLAW UNMASKED 


95 


stopped in front of number Sixty-four, stepping more 
cautious the nearer we come to the door. When we was 
arrived, the sheriff made a motion for nobody else to talk 
and whispers: 

“ Dingbat says the outlaw’s heavy-armed and I reckon 
he’s desprit, knowing his helpless position. But we don’t 
want to git keerless — we better have a plan of cam¬ 
paign. I’ll be the Staff and you all kin be the Rankin’ 
File. I’m choosin’ the hardest job because it takes intel¬ 
lect to be a leader of men and thinking is the hardest 
work they are. That much is conceded.” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ by them that never done no manual 
labor. I done consid’able of both in my day and gimme 
brain work every time.” 

“ That ain’t the accepted theery,” says the sheriff stub¬ 
born. 

“ And the reason is,” I says, “ because them which 
works with their brains kin talk more plausible about 
their suffering.” 

“ Well,” says the sheriff, “ it ain’t of no immejit im¬ 
portance. Our present problem is to effect the enemy’s 
capture with the least possible casualities. Have you all 
any suggestions? ” 

“ Why’n’t you knock on the door? ” asks Dingbat. 

“ No,” says the sheriff, “ that might pave the way for 
diplomatic negotiating and we’d likely be here all night. 
. . . No, our best tactics is a frontal attack in force. Me 
being leader, I’ll jest retire in behind the Rankin’ File so 
I kin direct the action better. Then when I give the 
command, ‘ Charge! 5 you all kin jump forrard in a single 
column and bust in the door and spreadin’ out over a 
wide front throw your two wings ahead and execute a 
incirclin’ movement. In that way you kin doubtless sur- 


96 LEM ALLEN 

round the foe and cut off his means of communication, 
thus forcin’ him to yield without a quarter.” 

Nobody said nothing for a minute, then Dingbat spoke 
up doubtful. 

“ I been to one hanging, but I wouldn’t hardly want 
to be impelcated in cuttin’ off a feller’s head. It ain’t 
right civilized.” 

“ Sho! ” says the sheriff disgusted. “ The enemy’s means 
of communication don’t mean his mouth, if that’s what 
your gittin’ at. It’s the avenue by which he receives his 
supplies.” 

“ What’s the difference? ” says Dingbat surprised. 

So then I put in: 

“ Long as nobody knows what you’re talkin’ about but 
yourself, Sheriff, mebbe you best carry on this chargin’ 
and surroundin’ pers’nally? ” 

“ O no,” says the sheriff, “ I’m leader and I know my 
place —it’s in the rear. A grate Captain’s life is wuth 
more to him than the lives of many privates, because he 
kin usually git more of the same if they’re kilt, but his 
chances of bein’ born agin are plumb hazzardous.” 

Well, I was getting tired with the convesation, and 
besides I figured Allingham had had a good chance to git 
away by now, so I says: 

“ If you fellers are ascared to break in, I’ll volunteer 
to make a bustin’ and a entry on my own hook.” 

“ Your courageous offer is accepted,” the sheriff come 
back prompt; “ you should be decorated for it! ” 

“ I may yet be,” I says, “ if Allingham ain’t changed 
his disposition since I seen him last.” 

So I knocked cautious on the door and when they wasn’t 
no answer I pushed it in and they wasn’t nobody there at 
all. So I felt better. 


THE OUTLAW UNMASKED 


97 

The sheriff and posse come crowding in after me when 
I explained the room was empty. 

“H’m!” says the sheriff thoughtful. “Our bird has 
flone. I reckon he must of kept a line of retreat handy.” 

“He did,” I says from the window; “it’s a clothes¬ 
line.” 

So the sheriff give a glanse at the rope danglin’ there 
and hollers, “Come on, men — to horse! ” and they all 
run downstairs and jumped on their horses and begun 
riding off in all directions. All but the sheriff, who drifted 
over to the gen’ral store to receive reports from the dif¬ 
ferent fronts, or so he said. But I had an idee it was to 
put my money in the safe. 

When they were gone and things were quiet once more, 
I looked around and there I see Dingbat standing dis- 
cons’late. 

“ What’s wrong with your feelin’s, Dingbat? ” I asked 
him. 

“ I was just thinkin’ how I felt when I was handlin’ 
that there roll of money I found in them pants. It was 
consid’able of a immotion, and that’s a fact! ” 

“ Think how you’d felt if you’d owned it,” I says. 

“ I ain’t got that amount of immagination, I’m afeared,” 
says Dingbat sying. 

“ Ain’t you going out with the posse? ” I asked him then. 

“ No,” he says, “ I ain’t. Sometime I might be in the 
same fix that friend of yourn’s in and I wouldn’t want to 
recall how I once chased a feller human critter to his 
death. Besides, I kin see them guns of his’n yet.” 

“ The feeling does you credit, Dingbat,” I says, “ I 
wouldn’t have thought it of you.” 

“ Yes, I’m right soft-hearted thataway. Another thing, 


LEM ALLEN 


98 

the saloon ain’t closed up yet and I got a little business 
to tend to there before I leave in the morning.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ supposin’ you go over and wait for 
me.” 

I says this because I seen that gal Loosy makin’ signs 
like she wanted to talk to me from the head of the stairs, 
and when Dingbat had gone she come out and handed 
me a folded piece of paper. 

“ Allingham left this for you,” she says, “ but don’t 
read it here. I don’t want Paw to know about his gettin’ 
away. I was out by the kitchen steps when the posse went 
upstairs and I see your friend shinnying down the fire 
escape. I thought at first he was tryin’ to beat his board 
bill, but when he told me it was only that he’d helt up the 
mail I holp him all I could.” 

“ That was right kind of you,” I says grateful. 

“ O, ’twa’n’t nothing much. I had a beau once was 
stringed up for a little shootin’ he did and ever since then 
I been parshul to fellers in trouble thataway. So I loaned 
Allingham Paw’s roan hoss, one of the fastest animals this 
side of the Gila, so I reckon he’ll make out. He left me 
some money as security, but I’d as leaf Paw didn’t know 
about it till you get gone tomorrow. He might act up.” 

So she left then, and I eased myself out’n the front 
door and headed for the saloon. 


Chapter XII 


GOING SOUTH WITH DINGBAT 


I FOUND Dingbat waiting patient in the Hotel Annex, 
with a glass holding about a quarter of an inch of 
beer in front of him. 

“ Why’n’t you drink up and get another, Dingbat? ” I 
asked him. 

“ Because I need this to show I got a right to be settin’ 
here,” he says; “when I know where the next is cornin’ 
from I’ll swaller it.” 

“ Are you broke? ” I asked, because I happened to 
think how exclusive the bartenders have got since pro’bi- 
tion give them so much advertising. I declare, if a 
feller ain’t got a slug of money an’ a loose wrist he might 
as well pick his friends in some other line. 

But Dingbat just says: 

“ Quit askin’ foolish questions and order up if you’re a 
mind to. And otherwise leave me to my mis’ry.” 

So I ordered a round and we drinked up. Then while 
we were waiting for the afterglow, which in this instance 
resembled a photygraft of a fire got under good control, 
I remembered the note Allingham had left. So I asked 
Dingbat to overlook me a minute and opened her up. 


“ Dear Lem,” it says, “ you must forgive me for 
leaving you a second time, but I really can’t wait to 
say good-bye. The adventure is proving itself even 
more romantic than I had hoped. I’m heading south 

99 


> > > 


100 


LEM ALLEN 


for Alma, where I understand a car in which we’re 
interested has preceded me; so duty and inclination 
run together. Get that money of yours if you can, 
because I’m running short of cash. 

“ Adids, 

“ Allingham.” 

Well, it give me a right lonesome feeling getting this 
last word like from a friend fleeing for his life and what 
little money he had left, while I sat comfortable with a 
drink or so in prospect and no worries only how to get 
to Alma without starving. 

Then I begun to wonder was they any chance of get¬ 
ting my stake back, so I says to Dingbat: 

“ How you feelin’ now, Dingbat? ” 

“ So, so,” he says patient, “ but you don’t want to forget 
the pote’s words about a Twaller not lastin’ all summer.” 

So I ordered again, and after one or two more I told 
Dingbat about the jam me and Allingham was in and 
asked him what show there was for me to git my money 
back. 

“None,” he says short; “it’s been put down in the 
sheriff’s day-books by now — on the credit side.” 

Then he begun to realize how desprit I was situated, 
I reckon, because he got real sociable and started cryin’ 
like he meant it. Seems ’s if he wasn’t such a bad old 
feller when you knowed him well enough to buy drinks 
for him. 

Finally he asked me how much I had left and when I 
told him he says: 

“ Lem, I ain’t got nothin’ much only a team and a 
hound dog and a passel of traps, but such as they is 
they’s yourn. Why’n’t you just come along with me in 


GOING SOUTH WITH DINGBAT ioi 

the morning? I’m going south to my claim in the moun¬ 
tains, where I expect to trap come winter.” 

“ That’s on the short trail to Alma, ain’t it? ” 

“ Yep. . . . And it’s likely the way your friend Allingham 
took. Mebbe you’ll meet up with him — if the posse 
don’t git him first.” 

Well, it looked like a good idee to me, so I told Dingbat 
I believed I’d go along with him, far as his claim anyway. 
Then I got a bottle from the bartender to cut the chill in 
the morning and Dingbat and me went over to room Sixty- 
four, using separate beds. 

I waked up early but found Dingbat had already riz, 
because I could hear him singin’ out in the corral right 
cheerful. Which seemed funny till I had taken a look at 
the bottle I’d bought the night before and found it was 
weakened consid’able. So I put the bottle safe in my 
pocket and went down to eat breakfast and pay my 
board bill. 

After I’d et I looked up old Hosford and found him 
setting in the best room, looking plumb contented. 

“ I suppose you’re leavin’ us,” he says cheery, “ now 
your friend the holdup feller has vamoosed. I wisht you’d 
give him my regards if you see him and tell him to send 
back my hoss when convenient.” 

“What! Has Loosy told you about the hoss?” 

“ Loosy? . . . Don’t you dast say a word to her about 
the matter. She’s young and innercent and wouldn’t rest 
easy if she knew I had such a thing on my conscience as 
lettin’ a crim’nal escape thataway. . . . It’s lucky I seen the 
feller before he got gone, though. He was leaving by the 
back way on my roan hoss when I ketched him. I mighty 
nigh taken a shot at him before I found out he was just 
wanting to hire the animal. But when he give me all the 


102 


LEM ALLEN 


money he had left I knowed his heart was in the right 
place, so I showed him the road south and speeded him 
on his way.” 

Well, this looked like right bad news to me. I knowed 
Allingham had kept his money and the option contract 
we’d got from old Andrew in his inside coat pocket, which 
is why they hadn’t gone with my money in Dingbat’s 
pants, but now seems like his money was gone also. I 
begun to figure we hadn’t made no great financial killing 
in Springerville — ’less’n you was to put suicide under that 
head. 

I didn’t say nothing, however, just paid my bill and put 
the two-three dollars I had left in my pocket and went out 
to jine Dingbat. But I hadn’t wore out my streak of 
hard luck yet, because no sooner I’d stepped out the front 
door and looked around for the team than I got another 
shock mighty nigh floored me. I seen the team all right, 
and Dingbat settin’ up in the driver’s seat important, but 
what give me the fantods was a pinto colt standin’ by with 
a fem’nine figger atop of him; because the gal that owned 
the figger was no other than that Miss Hallock Allingham 
had speedit south to find. 

I reckon I must of looked plumb downhearted when I 
come up, because Miss Hallock bust out laughing and 
says: 

“You don’t seem overjoyed to see me, Mr. Allen! ” 

“ Well,” I says, some hacked, “ we’ve run into a slug 
of trouble the last few days — ” 

“ And you’re afraid I’ll add to your burdens? . . . Be¬ 
cause I may as well tell you I’ve arranged with Mr. Jones 
to ride with you as far as his claim — then push on to 
Alma by the short cut through the mountains.” 

“ Yes,” says Dingbat when I glansed at him reproach- 


GOING SOUTH WITH DINGBAT 


103 


ful, “ me an’ her made a dicker whilst you was layin’ in 
bed this mornin’. I figured you’d be right surprised.” 

“ Nor you wasn’t wrong,” I come back frank. Then I 
asked Miss Hallock: “ Whereabouts did you leave your 
car? ” 

“ A few miles down the east road. We broke an axle. 
The car’s being towed in. I hired this horse and rode 
back to Springerville last night, thinking I’d go on alone 
— that’s when I heard Mr. Jones was planning to leave 
today. ... Of course if you object to my company I can 
still follow my original plan — ” 

“ No,” I says, “ it’s a right wild stretch we’re goin’ 
through. You’d ought not to travel alone.” 

At that she laughed short. 

“Nonsense! There’s no safer place in the world for 
a woman than this Western country. I’d always heard 
that —- but I’ve proved it since I’ve been out here. I’m 
in no danger. It’s you and your peace of mind we’ve 
got to consider! ” 

Well, she smiled pleasant when she says this and I 
figured they wasn’t nothing for me to do but to lie con¬ 
genial and say I was tickled to death she was along. So 
that’s what I done. 

Then I happened to think how humorous it was Ailing- 
ham trying his derndest to catch up with the gal when 
all the time she was in behind of him, so I give a slite 
smile. 

“You heard that Allingham left Springerville sudden — 
and why? ” I asked. 

“ Alas, yes! ” says the gal, solemn. “ Too bad, isn’t it? 
I had a feeling that your blithe partner would come to 
some sad end. . . . But don’t let’s talk about it — I want 
to enjoy my day! ” 


104 


LEM ALLEN 


With that she loped off down the south road ahead of 
us and me and Dingbat stood a minute watching her, be¬ 
cause it was a tense crisis in our pers’nal relations. 

“ Sets her hoss clever! ” says Dingbat ingrashuningly. 

But I didn’t say nothing, just climbed on the wagon 
and watched the gal. I wasn’t going to let Dingbat off 
too easy, after him gettin’ in with the gal behind my back, 
as you might say. 

Then Dingbat licked the hosses and we started off and 
old Hosford Hippie stuck his head out’n the window and 
hollered: 

“ Adios, Stranger! Don’t forget there’s always a bed 
here for you and a seat at our table — at the usual rates! ” 

“ He seems a right simple old critter,” I says to Ding¬ 
bat gruff, and Dingbat laughed. 

“ He’s got nigh as much money as the sheriff, which 
is a sign he don’t act simple because he has to but because 
he wants to. And they’s a lot of difference between them 
two conditions.” 

Then we didn’t say no more for a mile or such a matter, 
jest watched the road ahead and the gal, which looked 
right nice in her khaki ridin’ suit an’ tan boots an’ a 
little three-corner straw hat on top of her hair. An’ I 
thought, well, if Allingham was able to give me all the 
money he’d feel it was wuth for him to change places with 
me I’d be right rich. So after that seems like I felt better. 

Finally Dingbat says: 

“ What for was you going to Alma? ” 

“Well, for one thing Allingham wanted to visit there, 
because he’s heard tell it’s different.” 

“ Different from what? ” asks Dingbat. 

“ I dunno,” I says, “ I’m just telling you what Alling¬ 
ham says he heard.” 


GOING SOUTH WITH DINGBAT 


105 


So Dingbat studied a minute. 

“ If he means different from any other place in the 
world he’s right, because it is. But if he means interesting 
he’s wrong. The difference of Alma lays in the fact that 
you kin observe more varieties of nothin’ there than in the 
balance of the known Earth.” 

So I thanked Dingbat for the information. Then I says: 

“ What did they ever do to you in Alma, Dingbat? ” 

But he didn’t give me no satisfaction. 

So I says: “ Mebbe the trouble is you live too much 
with yourself, Dingbat. That always drives a man to 
distractions. Why’n’t you git a job in town? ” 

“ I kin tell you why not quicker,” he says short, “ it’s 
because I can’t git along with them human hyenas in 
Springerville, less’n I’m drunk, and if I get drunk I can’t 
work, and if I don’t work I go broke and when I’m broke 
I git sober and then them fellers rides me like at first. 
So about that time I hitch up and pull my freight out into 
the hills amongst the prededitory animals where I’m known 
and respected.” 

So then Dingbat asked for a drink. 

“ No,” I says, “ this bottle ain’t for pleasure but only 
for nurrishment. We kin take a swaller at supper time.” 

At that Dingbat looked so downhearted I asked him 
why he didn’t quit drinking. 

“ I done thought of it once or twice,” he says frank, 
“ but I decided agin it. Because whenever I make enough 
money trappin’ I’d rather spend it than have it taken off 
me. Besides, when I get drinking I feel plumb keerless 
and full of importance, which is the only time I experi¬ 
ences them two grate immotions.” 

“ You don’t feel thataway when you run out of licker, 
though! ” I says. 


io6 


LEM ALLEN 


“ No,” says Dingbat, “ but that ain’t never my fault — 
it’s my misfortune.” 

Then he pulled one of them Jew’s harps out’n his clothes 
and begun playin’ on it. 

“ It gives me a pleasant, sad feelin’ so I forget my 
troubles,” he explains. 

Then he played some more and the hound dog under 
the wagon begun keeping time to the tune by means of 
his voice. It plumb give me the creeps. 

Finally I decided I couldn’t stand it no longer. 

“ How often would you have to take a drink, Dingbat,” 
I asked him, “ to feel as bad as if you was making that 
noise? ” 

“ Oh, every once in so often,” he says more cheerful. 

So I gave him the bottle and he taken a drink and put 
the Jew’s harp in his pocket and gave the hosses a cut with 
his whip and I begun to feel easier. The hound, seems 
like, was improved in his disposition also. 

We had crossed the mesa by now and were climbing the 
up grade through the foothills of the White Mountains, 
which is right good hunting country. As we slipped in 
amongst the trees Miss Hallock turned in her saddle and 
waved her hand cheerful like she was enjoying the change. 
And it wa’n’t so bad to get into pine woods, and smell 
the smells there. I begun thinking how much cleaner and 
peacefuler it was than in them little towns like Springer- 
ville, which people break their necks to get into. But 
then I remembered that we weren’t earning no money at 
the moment but only amusing ourselfs. If a feller’s got 
a living to make I reckon it’s easier to make it off folks 
than things. I wouldn’t wonder if that’s one reason towns 
is popular. 

So then I says: 


> 


GOING SOUTH WITH DINGBAT 


107 


“ How do you find trapping for a business, Dingbat? ” 

“ Tough,” he says. “ It’s getting so a poor man can’t 
live and he’s afeared to die — funerals is too expensive.” 

“Well, we all got our troubles,” I says; “ mebbe you 
could take a drink and no harm done.” 

“ I kin,” says Dingbat, “ and I kin take one every so 
often till easier.” 

So that’s what he done. And he stopped complainin’ 
and didn’t have much to say for the balance of the day, 
till long about evenin’ when the whiskey give out and we 
was yet a right smart distance from the claim, he begun 
getting glummer and glummer. So I asked him what was 
wrong. 

“ Nothing,” he says, “ only a fit of despair.” 

Well, I laughed hearty to cheer him up, but it didn’t 
do no good. 

“ Yes,” he says, “ here I been in love with that gal 
Loosy for months, till it’s plumb spoilt my nature.” 

“ Loosy? ” I says surprised. 

Then Dingbat looked pleased. 

“ It give you a turn, didn’t it? But Loosy ain’t like 
old Hosford — she’s right human.” 

He was beginning to tell me what all she looked like, 
till I reminded him I’d seen her. 

“ Why’n’t you mention the matter to her, Dingbat? ” I 

asked. 

“ I done so. She says I’d have to quit drinking afore 
she could jedge the case on the merits.” 

“Well, why’n’t you quit drinking then? ” 

“Huh!” says Dingbat scornful, “What would I do 
without licker to drownd my passion in whilst I was wait¬ 
ing for her to make up her mind? ” 

So I got right riled. 


io8 


LEM ALLEN 


“ That’s the fourth different reason you’ve give me to¬ 
day why you can’t leave licker alone,” I says, “ and they 
ain’t ary one of them wuth arguing over. I wisht you 
tell me the truth once why you don’t take the pledge! ” 
“Because I enjoy drinkin’,” says Dingbat short; “why 
do you suppose? ” 

And those were the last words come out’n him till we 
reached his claim, when he cussed the hosses for bumpin’ 
their heads agin the front gate. 


Chapter XIII 


ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE 

D INGBAT’S claim lay in a clearing in the woods, with 
a spring handy and a fence built around it. He’d 
made hisself a log cabin and a bed of pine boughs 
and a table and some chairs. They was a stone fireplace 
also. We figured Miss Hallock could take the cabin for the 
night whilst we slep’ outside under the wagon. But first 
off Dingbat stirred round and tended to his team, and I 
lit a fire and cooked up a batch of hot bread and fried 
some bacon and made coffee and warmed up a pot of beans. 
Then the three of us set down to supper. 

Miss Hallock was tired from the ride and hadn’t said 
much of nothing since we arrove, only rested. But as the 
meal went on she felt more cheerful, seemed like, and let 
on she thought the claim was a right attractif spot. And 
she begun praisin’ up Dingbat on account of how indus¬ 
trious he’d been, fixing it up the way he had. 

“ ’Tain’t nothin’ extry,” Dingbat says modest, “ but then 
I ain’t had much of anything to do with. I been right 
unlucky in my life’s work.” 

“ Why, it’s ideal! ” she says. “ And you’ve done wonders! 
Making a little home in the wilderness — it’s like a story! ” 
“ Yes, marm, a right sad story,” Dingbat says. 

“ Why’n’t you eat your vittals afore they git cold, Ding¬ 
bat? ” I put in, but he shaken his head like he wasn’t 
interested, because he’d been eating fast for half an hour 
or such a matter. 


109 


no 


LEM ALLEN 


“ I was borned unlucky, I reckon,” he says, “ and my 
parents they didn’t do nothing to retrieve the error. They 
trained me for a working man instead of a financer like 
old Hosford Hippie or the Springerville sheriff. If they’d 
done different I would have knowed how to steal safe and 
by now could of had me a stake to fall back on in my old 
age, I wouldn’t wonder.” 

“ A feller which takes what isn’t hisn is li’able to get 
into trouble,” I says; “ lookit Allingham! ” 

Miss Hallock kind of smiled, but Dingbat says in¬ 
dignant: 

“Ho! I don’t mean a honest jail-fearin’ robber which 
takes his chances like a white man. I’m speakin’ of the 
kind of thiefs which hides their real business behind such 
names like finance and industry and law an’ order, and 
winds up in the State Senate, more’n likely, instead of the 
penitentiary. Them fellers has got all the best of things 
and I wish to Gosh I was amongst their number! ” 

“ But Mr. Jones,” breaks in Miss Hallock earnest, 
“ happiness isn’t a matter of dollars and cents! ” 

So Dingbat studied a minute. 

“ Well,” he says, shakin’ his head stubborn, “ the way I 
feel I’d ruther be rich an’ unhappy than poor an’ con¬ 
tented.” 

Then they was a brief paus and we didn’t say much of 
nothing more, and a little after we turned in and slep’ 
right good the night through. 

In the morning after breakfast, when Miss Hallock was 
about ready to start and had thanked Dingbat for his 
hospitality and give him a yellowback bill for his trouble, 
Dingbat took me to one side and let on he wanted me to 
camp with him for a spell. 


Ill 


ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE 

u Make the cabin your home for as long as you’re a mind 
to,” he says; “ I’ll treat you like you was my own kin.” 

“ No,” I says, “ let’s part friends. ... I aim to pull out 
for Alma this mornin’. You forget Allingham’s waitin’ 
for me.” 

“ Well,” says Dingbat, “ if you must you got to. How 
was you figurin’ on travelin’? ” 

“ It ain’t over thirty or forty mile. I reckon I can hoof 
it.” 

“ What? ” says Dingbat. “ With two idle critters layin’ 
round here eatin’ their heads off? I should say not! ” 

“ You mean I kin take one of your hosses? ” 

“ Take either or both, and welcome — the best ain’t too 
good for a feller holp old Dingbat the way you done. Be¬ 
sides, it’ll save me that much pasture.” 

So I thanked Dingbat and saddled up one of the hosses 
and told Miss Hallock I was ridin’ her way. She seemed 
right pleased. 

“ You can’t get rid of me, can you? ” she said smiling. 
“ It must be fate! ” 

I started to tell her that was what Allingham had called 
it, but then I remembered that the situation then had been 
some different. Mebbe if he’d seen me ridin’ through the 
hills with this gal he’d of thunk up a better title for the 
tablow, I dunno. 

So I just says: 

“ Fate kin be good or bad, Miss Hallock. I ain’t com¬ 
plainin’ none in the present instance.” 

Just then Dingbat stepped up and unhitched a Colt’s and 
his cattridge belt and helt them up to me. 

“ What’s that for? ” I asked surprised. 

“ It’s a good luck gift,” he says; “ mebbe you ain’t 
heard that Alma’s one of the most dang’rous spots this 


112 


LEM ALLEN 


side the Mexican border. It’s about a hundred miles from 
the railroad at Silver City and consid’able further from a 
good hospital. It’s mighty nigh as wild as them places you 
see in the movin’ pitchers. A man ain’t safe there unless 
he’s heeled and then he’s better off in jail.” 

“ I thought you told me yesterday they wasn’t nothing 
to see there? ” 

“ You can’t see bullets, nor yet sudden death, though 
both them commod’ties is products of the little hamlet 
you’re headin’ for. Why, if they don’t happen a killing 
at least once a week in Alma the Almians throws cold 
hands and then shoots the winner.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ gimme the gun.” 

So I strapped her on and we said Adids and Dingbat 
p’inted out the trail and Roscoe, his hound dog, begun 
howling like they does when they’re happy and we rid 
off’n the claim. 

“ Do you suppose Alma’s as wild as Mr. Jones seems to 
think? ” Miss Hallock asked reflectful, after we’d rode 
a piece. 

“ No,” I says, because I figured she was nervious, “ I 
don’t reckon so. Most of these towns is improved 
now’days with modern ideas on safety and such like.” 

So she gave a kind of sigh and says: 

“ I was afraid so. . . . I’d give anything to see a real 
honest-to-goodness bad Western community. It’s been 
one of the ambitions of my life — but I suppose I’m too 
late! ” 

Well, I looked at her surprised, her talking thataway. 

“That’s just what Allingham had in his mind,” I says; 
and then I told her about how he wanted to live dangerous 
and git romantic adventures and all. 


ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE 113 

He must be a more interesting person than I’d im¬ 
agined,” she says when I was through talking. 

“ He’s right entertainin’,” I says, “ but he ain’t plumb 
dependable to travel with — not when a feller’s got to 
make a living, like me.” 

I says this because I didn’t want the gal to think I was 
boosting Allingham too strong. But she just give a little 
laugh that brung out a couple of dimples, one on each 
side of her mouth. 

Then I says: “ What for was you headin’ Alma way 
for, if I ain’t overly inquisitive? . . . Seems like a right 
arduous trip to be takin’ jest for pleasure.” 

“ There’s the educational value of the journey,” she 
says, then adds more serious: “ I’d really planned to come 
with a —a friend of mine, let us say — ” 

“ The young feller in the ridin’ suit you said good-bye 
to on the platform at Vegas? ” 

So she nodded. 

“ He was detained — so I decided to make the trip alone, 
being an obstinate sort of person when I’ve set my heart 
on a thing. Well, I expected to reach Alma by car, which 
wouldn’t have been bad at all. My friend was to go by 
train to Silver City and drive up to Alma in time to meet 
me there. He’s a mining man, by the way, and has busi¬ 
ness in the vicinity. . . . When the car broke down I had a 
choice either to return the way I’d come, which I was 
naturally loath to do; or ride on as I’ve done. As you 
know, I chose the latter course — and I’m glad I did so! ” 

So I had to say I was glad too, for to be polite, and 
after that we was busy watchin’ the trail for a spell, be¬ 
cause we’d crossed over into New Mexico and was making 
the passes through the San Francisco range. We was 
nine or ten thousand feet up and the only thing outdone 


LEM ALLEN 


114 

the orneryness of the going was the strikin’ness of the 
scenery. I ain’t no great hand to throw flip-flops over 
mountains — having dumb too many; but these peaks was 
right rugged, for a fact. It looked like some old feller 
had took the sky for a dice box and the stars for dice and 
rolled them out regardless. And when they cooled off and 
growed trees they called theirselves mountains. 

Miss Hallock didn’t say nothing when the view come 
on us sudden, nor either did I. We jest stood there on 
the divide and let our hosses breathe and swallered a 
lungful or two of the cool air off the peaks and then we 
headed down toward the valley of the Frisco, where Alma 
lays. But I reckon we both enjoyed having stood there 
on the top of the world like for a minute, never-the-less. 

After a time we dropped out of spruce and pine timber 
and come into scrub oak and brush, with a scattering stand 
of pinon and juniper. And just then I seen a couple of 
Mexicans cutting out the trail and a right puny-lookin’ 
critter laying on the bank above them, drawring on a 
corncob pipe. 

He seemed a old-lookin’ feller at first glimp, and yet 
not so old neither. His face was all in wrinkles and one 
eye was slewed sideways and t’other was squinted and 
both on ’em was about as sparklin’ as skim milk. And he 
seemed plumb languid like it hurted him to watch the 
Mexicans working, though they wasn’t punishing their¬ 
selves none. 

Miss Hallock and me said “ Howdy ” to the feller 
pleasant and he took the pipe out’n his mouth and says: 
“ Howdy — twice! ” and put the pipe back and examined 
the Mexicans again with a pained expression on his face. 

“ How far is it to Alma? ” I asked him. 


XI S 


ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE 

He never turned around at all this time, only put up one 
hand irr’table and says: “ Shish! Jest a minute, I’m busy! ” 

“ Busy doing what? ” I asked surprised. 

“ Workin’,” he says impatient. “ Ain’t you never heard 
the word? ” 

“ Often. . . . But I never seen it acted out in this here 
still life way before.” 

“ Well,” says the feller yawning, “ we live and learn.” 

So I begun to git on the prod. 

“ I ain’t learnt a grate deal from you,” I says sharp. 

“ They’s no good reason why you should,” the old feller 
come back prompt; “ I’m foreman of this county road- 
buildin’ crew and teachin’ inquisitive strangers don’t hardly 
come under the terms of my contrack.” 

Well, at that Miss Hallock give a slite laugh and I got 
plumb riled and before I knowed it I’d drawed out Ding¬ 
bat’s gun and throwed down on the feller. And he jumped 
up agyle and shoved his arms over his head. 

“ I ain’t got a cent — shore as my name’s Humferry 
Daggett an’ my home State’s Arkinsaw! ” 

“ I don’t want your money nor I ain’t interested in your 
pers’nal history,” I says, “ but if you got a few civil 
answers in your system now’s a good time to unvale them! ” 

“ Ask me anything you want and watch how quick you 
git the rights of it! ” says the feller. 

So I put up my gun and asked him how far they called 
it to Alma. 

“ About twenty mile as the crow flies.” 

“ I ain’t a-flyin’ today,” I reminded him. 

“ I see you ain’t,” he says, glansing keerless at Dingbat s 
hoss. “ By your present means of loco-motion, as you 
might call it, I’d say you got fifty mile or better to go.” 


n6 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Mercy! ” put in Miss Hallock. “ That far? . . . Isn’t 
there some place we could stop, between here and Alma? ” 

This Humferry looked at her a minute reflectful, puffin’ 
on his pipe. 

“ I’d ask you to stay at my place down the trail a piece,” 
he says finally, “ only I ain’t had none since a week or so 
back.” 

“ How come that? ” I asked, not because I wanted to 
know but because it’s been one of my experiences that if 
you let a feller talk about hisself he gits grateful and is 
li’ble to do you a favor. And we was needing information 
from Humferry. 

“ ’T’wan’t nothing much,” he says, “ only me an’ my wife 
had a argument and it come to a head. She helt I hadn’t 
ought to do no labor on account of my asmy, which gits right 
bad at times. But I helt a man ain’t doin’ hisself justice 
’less’n he’s taarin’ off a man’s work. So when the county 
offered me this job makin’ trail I took them up on it with¬ 
out sayin’ nothin’ about it at home, an’ come up here an’ 
cut loose.” 

“ And your wife wasn’t pleased? ” asked Miss Hallock. 

“ No, marm, she warn’t. In fact, we had words. And 
finally, ruther than live in a condition of this gorilla war¬ 
fare, as they call it, I left home. So that’s how come I 
can’t offer you a bed tonight.” 

Well, we left Humferry and his crew then and made our 
ways down the mountain side towards the valley once more. 
And after we’d got out of earshot Miss Hallock looked at 
me kind of funny and says: 

“ Does it strike you, Mr. Allen, that some of the men 
we’ve met recently are given to exaggeration? ” 

“ I’ve noticed it,” I says. Then I got to thinking about 
various of the fellers I’d known, that lived by theirselfs a 


ALMOST BUT NOT QUITE 117 

lot, and I says: “ Cattle handlers claim a cow needs about 
forty acres of grazin’ land to grow good on. But these 
old fellers many of them have got forty miles or better to 
branch out in, so they don’t put no limits on the expan¬ 
sion of their idees.” 

“ You mean they develop their idiosyncrasies? ” 

“ I reckon. They’re right individual, anyhow. The 
corners of their charackters don’t git rubbed off by 
bumpin’ up agin other fellers, like folks in towns. They’re 
right queer, some of them, for a fact! ” 

So we didn’t say no more for a spell, till we’d got down 
off the hills and was moseyin’ along down the valley of the 
Frisco. It was different country from that we’d traveled, 
being warm and dusty; yet I was enjoying it. I dunno 
why it is, but as soon as I git into that New Mexico mesa 
country they’s something about it that gits to me. It’s 
right still and creepy, and I always imagine they’s fellers 
settin’ behind the rocks and ridges which have been waiting 
there for years till I come along — but I don’t never see 
them. Nor I don’t know why ’tis I feel thataway. 

I was fixin’ to tell Miss Hallock about it, but just then 
I heard a sound like a lobo wolf wailin’, and directly we 
seen a log cabin set close to the road and in front of the 
cabin a plumb powerful-built woman, about six feet two or 
thereabouts, washing clothes and singing to herself. 

It was reaching on towards dusk by now, so I says: 

“ Here’s a place mebbe you might git to stay for the 
night, Miss Hallock! ” and with that the woman looked 
up and seen us and waved her hand encouraging, so we 
rode over to where she was and I got down off’n my hoss. 

“ I thought perhaps you could put me up for the night,” 
Miss Hallock said pleasant; “I’m on my way to Alma.” 

Well, the woman taken the snuff stick out’n her mouth 


n8 


LEM ALLEN" 


and give me a grip like I’d got fast in a bear trap. Then 
she looked up at Miss Hallock, who was still settin’ her 
mount. 

“ Shore! ” she says, “ Roweeny Daggett ain’t never 
turned a feller woman from her door yet — nor she ain’t 
aimin’ to. Git down and rest yourself till I git these 
clothes done an’ we’ll have a snack! ” 

Well, I helt Miss Hallock’s hoss and she started to get 
down and just then I seen her give a startle and glanse 
acrost my head right surprised. And the next thing I 
knew she’d jerked the bridle out’n my hand and turned 
the hoss south and was trotting off down the road with her 
head in the air. And when I swung round to see what the 
matter was there stood Allingham with a armful of wood 
and a look on his face like he’d seen a ghost. 

He dropped the wood and come forrard quick and laid 
a hand on my bridle reins. 

“ Let me just take your horse a few minutes, Lem! ” he 
says urgent. “I’ve got to have an understanding with that 
young lady. Anybody’d think I was poison, the way she 
avoids me! ” 

Well, I didn’t see no sense in him chasing a stranger 
gal clean to Alma, so I was goin’ to argue with him about it; 
but before I could say something Miz Daggett reached out 
and got holt of Allingham’s arm and started walking him 
to the house like he was a plumb infant. 

“ You done made your arrangements to stay the night 
here,” she says determined, “ and here you’re goin’ to stay 
— if I have to hogtie you.” 

So when I seen ’twas decided thataway I taken the 
saddle off my hoss and hobbled him and went in the cabin 
to see what was the program sketched out. 


Chapter XIV 


HOSPITALITY A LA DAGGETT 

A LLINGHAM was wedged in a corner of the room 
near the fireplace and away from the door, looking 
plumb anxious at Miz Daggett, who was in a rocker 
acrost from him, on guard like. When she see me in the 
doorway she says cordial: 

“Come in, Mr. Allen — welcome to Daggett’s Cove! 
Not that they’s any more’n enough water here than to lay 
the dust in a feller’s throat, but I like the seaweed sound of 
the name so that’s what I call the ranch. My old man 
was one of them that went down to the sea in ships — or 
nigh it: poled a raft on the Mis’sippi afore we moved to 
Arkinsaw.” 

“ Yes, ma’am, Miz Daggett,” I says, sittin’ down betwixt 
her and Allingham; “didn’t I meet your husbant up the 
road a piece, workin’ on the trail? ” 

“ No,” she says frowning, “ you didn’t. You might of 
met Daggett settin’ on the trail, but not working on it. 
He’s got a prejudise agin work — it’s Christmas all year 
round with him. . . . But here, I forgot I ain’t got no more 
husbant. I had a house-cleanin’ a couple of weeks ago and 
he went out with the rest of the trash.” 

She was getting het up gradual, so Allingham says 
keerless: 

“ Mebbe we best get some wood and draw water, Lem, 
and quit bothering Miz Daggett! ” 

119 


120 


LEM ALLEN 


But she give him a look and he sank back into his seat 
without no more sudgestions. 

“ Make yourself easy, young man,” she says, “ you’re 
here for the evening. I ain’t one to let the only sociable 
vis’tors I’ve had this summer run out on me afore we’ve 
hardly got acquainted. I reckon you’re figurin’ on how 
soon you kin catch up with that gal on the pinto — what’s 
she to you, anyway? ” 

“ A memory,” says Allingham short. 

“ Was you figurin’ on marryin’ hon’able or jest triflin’? ” 

Well, Allingham looked right hacked. 

“I haven’t met her yet, Mrs. Daggett,” he says stiff; 
“ so that my intentions in regard to her are as yet in an 
embryonic state. I acted upon impulse just now — when 
I would have followed her. As a matter of fact, I suppose 
my pride was touched by her apparent disinclination for my 
company.” 

Miz Daggett tossed a log on the fire and filled her clay 
pipe with fine-cut. 

“ It’s a good sign her leavin’ when she seen you — shows 
you done made a dent in her thoughts. I wouldn’t despair 
if I was you.” She reached herself a sliver of lightwood 
and lit up and puffed a spell contented. “ After all,” she 
says, “ they ain’t nothin’ like a pipe. Who was it said a 
woman’s only a female but a good stout pipe is a pleasure? ” 

“ I dunno,” I says, to be in on some of the convesation. 

“ Well,” says Miz Daggett, “ whoever sprang the words 
first was a smart feller, only he could of put men in the 
same sentence and not been far out. Especially husbants.” 

So nobody said nothing for a minute and then Miz 
Daggett begun talking museumly: 

“ Husbants is disappointin’ critters any way you take 
’em and I’d ought to know: I’ve had four.” 


HOSPITALITY A LA DAGGETT 


121 


“ Mebbe you was too young an’ innercent, Miz Daggett,” 
I sudgested, “ to begin with.” 

But she shaken her head. 

“ No. As a gal you couldn’t trip me up nohow on the 
subjects of romance and true love and such. I was in 
touch with all the best mattermonial liter’ture, Miz South- 
worth and Berthy M. Clay and dear old Laura Jean 
Libbey was familiar names to me in those days. And I 
knowed the earmarks of an ideel husbant as well as the 
lissum lines of my own figger. I was aware he wouldn’t 
dast show hisself in his wife’s company without his swaller- 
tail and a biled shirt on and his yaller hair curled and the 
diamond on his little finger flashing prissamic colors in the 
lamplight. I also knowed he’d ought to could write po’try 
and pack sweet nothin’s around handy and make it his life’s 
business to see that the wife of his bussom was ignorant 
of hard luck an’ dish washin’.” 

“ Your training was thorough, Mrs. Daggett,” says 
Allingham pleasant, because by now I reckon he’d decided 
he might as well enjoy the occasion, long’s he was there. 

“ Yes,” she says bitter, “ but bein’ educated thataway 
didn’t do me no good at all. I jest told you I’d tried four 
husbants in all, and not in ary instance did one of them 
varmints come up to spessifications. The only po’try they 
made up was for the rent collector, the sweet nothin’s they 
owned was packed careful in their pockets, their life’s 
business was dodgin’ work. And not one of them s’rimps 
wore curly hair or diamonds, while the one suit they pos¬ 
sessed strangely resembled the materials from which over¬ 
hauls is made.” 

“You shore had hard luck, ma’am,” I says comfortin’. 

“ Oh, I dunno,” she says; “ I made out in the end. Be¬ 
cause when them fellers fell down on me I couldn’t conceal 


122 


LEM ALLEN 


my natural disappointment, and we had words, and one by 
one the four of ’em folded their bedrolls, when they had 
’em, and stole what they could lay their hands onto and 
drifted.” 

“ Was Mr. Daggett one of them four, ma’am? ” 

“ No — I clean forgot him. His case was different. He 
didn’t have energy enough to move when the first of May 
was wished on him gentle, so I had to adopt more extreme 
measures to git him gone. He was throwed out.” 

Well, they was a brief pause and Miz Daggett begun 
lookin’ in the fire gloomy and I begun to wonder when she 
was goin’ to git chuck ready. But just as I was fixin’ 
to make some hints, they come a sort of shiftless knock at 
the door and a voice about as loud as a chipmunk grittin’ 
its teeth says, “ Howdy! ” from outside. 

“ Who all’s that? ” says Miz Daggett surprised, and the 
voice says, “ Is that you, Babe? ” 

So Miz Daggett looked right flustery. 

“ Well, I’ll declare — if ’tain’t that there faithful little 
critter Humferry. He always calls me Babe thataway. My 
given name is Pansy.” 

So she opened the door and there stood Humferry holding 
a bunch of wild-flowers in one hand and a sawed-off shot¬ 
gun in the other, and not knowing which one to put forrard 
he was that upsot. 

“ Come on in, Humferry,” says Miz Daggett encouragin’, 
“ ’twas right neighborly of you to call thisaway.” 

So Humferry come to a quick decision and shoved the 
flowers at Miz Daggett and she laid them on the table and 
then Allingham got a idee and jumped up and says: 

“ Pleasant as our stay has been, Mrs. Daggett, Lem and 
I couldn’t think of intruding on a family reunion like this 
— so we’ll bid you adieu and be off! ” 


HOSPITALITY A LA DAGGETT 


123 

Before Miz Daggett could put a veto on the notion Hum- 
ferry gripped his shotgun hard and backed toward the door 
and says: 

“ HoP on, I’m goin’ thataway in jest a minute. Don’t 
you all leave yet! ” 

He looked so skeert and Miz Daggett looked so hostile 
that we set down again and they was a brief pause. 

“ Miz Daggett,” says Humferry then, “ how come I 
called I was wantin’ to buy eggs. Have you got some 
to spare? ” 

So she looked at him right suspicious, but took some 
eggs from the cupboard and helt them out, and Humferry 
untied his handkercher which was knotted around some 
silver money and took out a quarter and laid it on the 
table. 

“ Thar,” he says proud, “ I’m payin’ for them eggs — 
afore witnesses! ” 

Well, when she seen the money Humferry had, Miz 
Daggett grabbed him around the neck before he could make 
out to defend hisself and planted a kiss on his forrid that 
might’ nigh knocked him down. And Humferry jumped 
back breathin’ hard and cocked his shotgun and then stood 
his ground right plucky. 

“ Where did you get all that money, Humferry, my 
lam’? ” asked Miz Daggett, eying the shotgun kind of 
doubtful. “ You’re all tired out workin’ for me, poor dear 
— p’raps you’d like for to stay here tonight and rest you? ” 

“ Much obleeged,” says Humferry, retirin’ graceful to the 
door, “ but I wouldn’t wish to. I got business down to 
Alma.” 

“ Business — at Alma? ” asks Miz Daggett like she 
didn’t believe ’twas possible. “ You’re lyin’ to me, ain’t 
you, precious? ” 


124 


LEM ALLEN 


“ No, marm,” says Humferry manful, “ I ain’t.” 

“ Don’t conterdict me, you ornery little chunk o’ nothin! ” 
hollers Miz Daggett plumb savage. And with that she 
grabbed up a bottle of snuff and sailed it at Humferry 
and Humferry ducked clever and disappeared out’n the 
door and we all begun to coff and sneeze till hell wouldn’t 
have it, because the bottle had busted on the wall. 

“ Here’s our chance, Lem! ” I heard Allingham whis¬ 
perin’. “ Sneak out while the snuff’s working! ” 

So that’s what we did, without Miz Daggett hardly 
noticin’ it, and caught up our hosses and throwed the 
saddles onto ’em and loped off down the road south. Nor 
I wasn’t nothing loath to leave, neither. 

After a bit we slowed down and Allingham wanted to 
know what all had happened since he’d left Springerville 
and how come I’d rid up with Miss Hallock when all the 
time he figured she was ahead in the car, going to Alma on 
the East rout. So I told him what had took place and he 
wasn’t nigh as put out as I’d expected over the affare. 

“ Tell you What, Lem,” Allingham says when I’d finished, 
“ I’m going to have to adopt a different attitude toward 
that stand-offish young lady. I’m going to show her I 
can be as haughty as she is, every bit. When we get to 
Alma we’ll just ignore her existence. We won’t even ask 
if she’s arrived. She’ll come round all right — you watch! ” 
So I didn’t say nothing, because I knowed Allingham was 
just talking. But after a minute I says: 

“ How much money you got left? ” 

“ I’ve got our option contract on the Golden Nuggett 
and a price on my head. How about you? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ the sheriff at Springerville’s holding 
onto my money for legal evidence. I’ve got three or four 


HOSPITALITY A LA DAGGETT 


125 

dollars besides, and some chicken feed I ain’t had the heart 
to count up yet.” 

So Allingham whistled reflectful. 

“ We’re close to the danger line, Lem! ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ we’d ought to be right happy. I don’t 
reckon your friend Neetsky hisself could git into a more 
entertainin’ jam. Not without consid’able thought any¬ 
ways.” 

So Allingham laughed and about then we caught sight of 
what looked like Humferry down the road ahead, so we 
shook up the reins and broke into a lope once more. 


Chapter XV 


ALMA 


W HEN we caught up with Humferry he was riding 
along proud-like with his shotgun helt afore him, 
while his glass eye flashed fire in the moonlight. 
“ They ain’t many fellers my heft would of stood up to 
Miz Daggett the way I done,” he says when we come up. 

“ ’Twas right pitiful,” Allingham says. “ I could see 
her trembling before you and your lethal weapon like an 
aspen leaf in a high wind, while her face took on the pale 
hue of ashes. You should be magnanimous in your 
strength, Humferry — the noblest souls are the tenderest! ” 
Well, Humferry looked right hacked, because he couldn’t 
figure out whether Allingham was praising him up or run¬ 
ning him down; but finally he decided to take it the way 
it felt best, so he says: 

“ Mebbe I was a mite hard on her, but a man’s got to 
take a stand now and agin. I aim to be master in my own 
household — when I’m thar.” 

“ What did you contradict her for though, when every¬ 
thing was going along smooth? ” 

“ Ho! That was a rebuke like, to Miz Daggett’s curios¬ 
ity about where I got my money. I didn’t want to tell 
her the truth, that I’d got it shootin’ craps with them 
Mexicans of mine. Nor I didn’t want to come right out 
and say ’twan’t none of her business, because that might 
of started an argyment and it don’t pay to argy none with 

126 


ALMA 


127 


wimmin and childern. Jest give ’em a right good startle 
and let ’em think it out for theirselfs. They ain’t such 
idjits as they let on to be.” 

So Allingham laughed. 

“ You’re some philosopher, Humferry! . . . And now 
when you’ve spent your money I suppose you’ll go back and 
that yearling hog I saw in back of the cabin will be 
slaughtered in your honor and peace and amity will reign 
in a reunited family.” 

“ No,” says Humferry, “ I reckon not.” 

“ Why, Humferry — ” 

“ No,” says Humferry plumb ve’ement, “ it’s out’n the 
question. . . . Though ’twould be all right with me only 
for the one thing, and that’s Miz Daggett’s masterful affec¬ 
tion. She’s done indulged her tenderness for me so long 
it’s worsen a habit — it more resembles a vise. And the 
result is her immotion is right uncontrollable, at least by 
me; though I got to admit I possess a certain fassination 
where wimmin is concerned. I kin gen’elly keep ’em at a 
respectable distance away from me — all but Miz Daggett. 
. . . Why, you-all would be surprised if I should tell you 
how uttery lovin’ that pore critter gits! ” 

“ How come she heaved that there snuff bottle at you 
this evenin’? ” I asks. “ Was that a love gift like? ” 

“Sho! That was jest jellessy — the bitter half of 
matrimony. Besides, she knowed I’d duck it; I’ve had 
plenty of practise. But that ain’t here nor there, what I’m 
claimin’ is that jellessy was the motive power behind the 
heave. She figured I was fonder of that money I had than 
I was of her, and a sudden impulse done the rest.” 

“ Jealousy’s a terrible weapon in the hands of a strong 
woman,” says Allingham reverent. 

“ It’s the truth,” Humferry says, “ and the funny thing 


128 LEM ALLEN 

is they don’t have to be no good reason for it. F’r instance, 
lookit me! ” 

So then Allingham and me both laughed — he looked so 
biggety when he says this. 

“ I’ll explain what I mean,” says Humferry after 
studyin’ a minute. “ By nature I’m a plumb home-lovin’ 
critter. I wouldn’t never stir out of that humble little 
cabin of ourn unless they was good cause. Why, I actually 
got so doggone attached to one particular spot it used to 
break me all up to leave it. I got the spot in mind yet — 
’twas jest to the left of the fireplace and a rockin’ chair 
was sot over it, usually. 

“ You’d of thought that would of pleased Miz Daggett, 
but it didn’t. She got so jellus of that partic’ler location 
she threatened more’n once to drop a couple of pails of 
water onto it — beginning some distance above it where 
my head was restin’ agin the back of the rockin’ chair. 
But I didn’t complain none — jest p’inted out to Miz 
Daggett the orneryness of her motive. 

“ But she wouldn’t own up to bein’ jellus. She put her 
irr’tation all on the grounds of my health. She said ’twould 
do me good to stir out now and then and hunt light exercise 
and mebbe two-bits or so along the highways and byways 
of Alma. Money for pins, she called it! What in time 
would a feller want with pins if he could set by the fire 
and git fed regular? ” 

“ That’s a good point,” says Allingham interested. “ Did 
you bring it home to her? ” 

“ I didn’t git a chance. She done all the talkin’. 4 I’m 
fond of you, Humferry,’ she says, ‘ and I can’t bear to see 
you set idle and waste your time thataway. Work is the 
salvation of a man’s self-respect and happiness. And if I 
have my way, first thing you know you’ll be singin’ round 


ALMA 


129 

here like a lark from night till mornin\ During the day, 
o’ course, you’ll be busy.’ 

“ When I objected and reminded her I could make out to 
git along in my own simple way, she wouldn’t listen. ‘ I 
know best what’s for your good,’ she says, ‘ and besides, 
I kin make it stick! ’ Which was no more’n the truth. 
So I seen we couldn’t hit it off and lit out.” 

Then Humferry stopped talking and they was a brief 
pause. 

“ Seems like you told a different story about your martial 
troubles this afternoon,” I says. 

“ Well,” snapped Humferry irr’table, “ if I didn’t have 
more’n the one yarn on a subject I’d be a plumb pore re¬ 
counter.” 

So I was going on to say some more but just then we 
seen a light ahead, which Humferry claimed was Alma. 

“Take a good look at it, Lem,” says Allingham; “we 
may have to spend considerable time here — it’s all we’ve 
got to squander.” 

So I looked around when we got closer, but they wasn’t 
much to see. The town was set out on a flat mesa with 
the Frisco, a plumb spindlin’ stream, running by on the 
west side, and on the east the Mogollon range ran north 
and south, sev’el miles distant. There was a hotel and a 
gen’ral store and a saloon and a long one story frame 
building which Humferry says was the schoolhouse and 
the town hall and occasional used for dances. That was 
all, only a dobey shack called the jail and two-three tumble- 
down cabins that looked like somebody had forgot to take 
them along when they moved. It looked right shiftless, 
for a fact. 

“ I’ve heard tell it’s a bad town here,” I says. 

“ I wouldn’t say bad exactly,” says Humferry, “ though 


130 


LEM ALLEN 


it don’t never hurt none to speak slow and polite amongst 
strangers. But I reckon you’ll get along all right if you 
keep in with Brad Thomas, who runs the hotel and the 
store and the best saloon and owns the biggest bunch of 
cattle this side of Silver City. He’s got consid’able sayso 
in what goes on and six growed daughters he’s wantin’ to 
marry off. I reckon that’s all the information you’ll need 
to know, only don’t gamble more’n you’ve got nor cuss 
nobody out ’less’n your guns is iled.” 

So we rid up to the saloon door, from where the light 
we’d seen was coming, and got down. 

Along one side of the room was a bar and across from 
it was a pool table and in between under a drop lamp was 
a card table. They was some fellers settin’ playin’ poker 
and some other fellers standing round sweating the game. 
A little chunky-built feller with tow hair was bringing a 
couple of loads of drinks from behind the bar — one load 
on a tray and the other packed internal. 

Nobody noticed us come in because they was all watching 
the game. A sizable jackpot was being decided, so we 
joined the sweaters and looked on and Humferry whispered 
to us who-all the fellers playin’ were. He says the tall 
solemn-lookin’ feller with the hook nose and mustache 
curlin’ back like the horns on one of them mountain goats 
was Brad Thomas, and he says the feller opposite Brad 
wearing a big sombrero with a convict-wove horse-hair 
hatband and silver buttons on his vest was the sheriff. He 
was a Mexican, seems like, though at first I thought he 
was a colored feller. He looked plumb light-struck. 

The sheriff and Brad was bucking each another, so I 
didn’t pay much attention to the rest. Two was deputy 
sheriffs, Humferry told us, and one was a revenue officer, 
and the last was Sim Wood who owned the rival saloon 


ALMA 


131 

acrost the street. But Humferry says competition wasn’t 
right keen, because after taking in a dollar or so in the 
morning Sim would close up his place and come over and 
spend the balance of the day in Brad’s saloon, where they 
was more life. If he didn’t git closed out sooner, that is; 
because this Sim was a gambler. 

Well, Brad win the jackpot over the sheriff, who looked 
right mean like he couldn’t take a joke, and then Brad 
called for drinks on the house and that’s where the 
sweaters got action on their time and encouragin’ applause, 
because it’s their business to stand round and back the 
winner — if he’s generous, that is. And if he ain’t they 
back him just the same, because they’re gamblers too. 

When the tow-headed feller had come round with another 
double-barrel order — one for himself and one for the 
rest of the comp’ny — Brad glansed around to see if every¬ 
body was getting theirs and he seen us standing by and so 
he riz up and come over and Humferry made us acquainted. 
And when I got a right good look at Brad’s face I come 
near bustin’ into tears, because he looked right sad. Like 
autumn and leaves failin’ and rain drippin’ on the eaves 
and such like. But he wasn’t no fool however, as we learnt. 

“ Take my hand in the game a spell, Humferry! ” says 
Brad, and so Humferry set down behind Brad’s chips and 
the sweaters glansed at him envious. Then Brad walked 
behind the bar and begun polishing glasses inviting-like, 
while me and Allingham and two or three fellers lined up 
on the other side. 

“ What will you gents take? ” Brad asks. 

“ Whiskey! ” I says. 

“ I’m not drinking,” says Allingham, “ give me beer.” 
Then he adds: “ Won’t you and your friends join us? ” 

Brad glansed at the fellers agin the bar. 


132 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Them ain’t friends,” he says, “ they’re jest eaves¬ 
droppers.” 

So the fellers turned around and joined the rest of the 
sweaters like they was interested in the game. 

“ I’ll take a finger or so with you all,” Brad says, and 
so we drinkt up. 

“ Have one on the house! ” says Brad then, and we done 
so. And when them formalities was over I ordered another 
because I wanted it. After that we all begun to feel better 
acquainted. 

“ Are you fellers fixin’ to stay any len’th of time in 
Alma? ” Brad asked. 

“ It depends,” Allingham says; “ we haven’t decided yet.” 

“ Did you say what your business was? ” 

So Allingham hesitated, then says: 

“ You might call me a traveling man, Mr. Thomas.” 

“ Um! What line?” 

“ The line of least resistence, just now,” Allingham says, 
and then before Brad could say something he puts in 
quick: “ My friend Mr. Allen is an author.” 

At that Brad took his speckticles off the counter behind 
the bar and put them on careful and glansed at me sus¬ 
picious. 

“ What all are you author of, if I ain’t inquis’tive? ” 

“ He’s doing a series of love letters for one thing,” 
Allingham says. 

“ No,” I says some hacked, “ they ain’t exactly love 
letters — I’m right serious in the affare. But I’m writing 
a book of our experiences which I hope will be a grate 

success.” 

“ I don’t waste no time with books about experiences,” 
Brad says; “ I got plenty myself. What I like is them 
yarns about cowboys in the Wild West — they take a 


ALMA 


133 


feller’s mind off the humdrummin 5 of reality. ... I sup¬ 
pose you fellers want beds? ” 

“ I reckon/’ I says. 

“ Well, I’ll take you over and show you to your room. 
I reckon the gals is gone to bed by now. An’ I’ll git you a 
cold snack if you’d like.” 

“Capital!” says Allingham. Then he adds polite, 
“We’ve heard of your daughters already, Mr. Thomas — 
and how attractive they are! ” 

Brad looked right unsympathetic, so I asks: 

“ What are the names of them gals, Mr. Thomas?” 

“ Ruby and Pearl and Beryl and Opal and Emrald and 
Sapphiry,” says Brad, “ and they ain’t misnamed neither, 
because they’re shore jewels, as the feller says. . . . Are 
either of you gents married? ” 

“ Yes, me! ” says Allingham hasty, before I could speak. 

So Brad looked at me reflectful. 

“ You’re the batchelder, hey? And an author. Well, I 
reckon they’s worse trades — school teachin’, f’r instance.” 

“ That isn’t a trade,” put in Allingham, “ it’s a martyr¬ 
dom.” 

“ Besides,” I says, “ I wouldn’t wonder if the gal I’m 
writing to and me wouldn’t fix it up before a grate while.” 

I says this because I didn’t want Brad to go building no 
false hopes for his daughters. 

But he just says: 

“ Don’t make no excuses. All I was fixin’ to say was 
that if you fellers was fancy-free an’ unroped they wouldn’t 
be no chance for you here. My sons-in-laws has got to be 
rich and good-looking and a number of other things your 
fairy godmothers done left out’n the recipe when you was 
born.” 


134 


LEM ALLEN 


Then Brad come from behind the bar without offering 
us no more drinks and says: 

“ You ain’t got no word to leave for Humferry, which 
you come in with, have you? ” 

“ No,” says Allingham, “ except that I hope he won’t 
stay up late and be tardy with his work in the morning.” 

So Brad laughed for the first time during the evening. 
It sounded like as if a feller was to rip up a tin roof right 
quick with a can opener. 

“ Humferry workin’! ” he says and laughed some more. 
“ Why, the hardest work Humferry ever done was 
knitting! ” 

“ Socks for sojers? ” I asked. 

But Brad shook his head. 

“ His forrid,” he says, “ over five cards helt tight in the 
left hand! ” 


Chapter XVI 


A MATTER OF SUBSISTENCE 

T HE next morning after we got to Alma I waked up 
right early, because I was worrited. Here we was, 
owing mighty nigh all our cap’tal for hossfeed and 
room rent and a eye-opener we hadn’t had yet, and no 
ways I could figure of gettin’ out’n the tight. The only 
pleasant feature of the situation I could think up was that 
if we starved to death we wouldn’t have to buy no tomb¬ 
stone to prove our corpses was deposited in the kind of 
place customary reserved for such relics — an’ that wasn’t 
a plumb cheerin’ thought neither. So I was right down in 
the mouth, for a fact. 

I seen Allingham was asleep yet, with a smile on his 
count’nance. I figured he was dreamin’ that Miss Hallock 
had asked to meet his acquaintance or something, and I 
didn’t aim to wake him because they wasn’t no use two of 
us sufferin’ when one would do; but mebbe my being 
agitated thataway stirred up the air like, because directly 
he twisted around a time or two and come alive. 

“ What are you doing sitting up in bed at this ungodful 
hour, Lem? ” he asked sleepy. 

“I’m worriten,” I says. 

So Allingham laughed and rubbed at his eyes. 

“ We got reason to worry,” I says; “ a feller’s got to live.” 
“ Lots of them don’t, however. . . . But quit looking 
so sad, or you’ll spoil my appetite which is so far so good. 
When a man’s broke he should brush up and put on a 


135 


i 3 6 LEM ALLEN 

clean collar and fasten a smile on his face and offer to lend 
somebody money! ” 

“ I ain’t got ary clean collar,” I says. 

“ Well, tie your hankerchief a bit tighter round your 
neck and leave the rest to luck. Make a practise of looking 
for the best and it will come to you — sometimes, anyway.” 

“ I always expect the worst,” I says, “ then I don’t never 
git disappointed.” 

So Allingham stared at me like he was surprised. 

“Why, Lem! I believe you’re a pessimist! ” 

“ If you mean a feller which is willing to learn by ex¬ 
perience,” I says, “ I am. I ain’t never been one to lead a 
yaller-haired young hope around by the hand and introduce 
it to my friends as a growed-up fact.” 

Then Allingham shaken his head solemn. 

“ You’ll never be happy till you learn to ignore facts, 
Lem — take my word for it. There are aways two sides 
to life, the light side and the dark side: and sensible people 
like myself dwell constantly upon the former. Then before 
you know it we’re dead and find we’ve been having a good 
time all our lives, whereas the only thing a deceased pessi¬ 
mist has proved by his unhappiness is that existence — for 
him — has been a failure.” 

“ There’s more stren’th in dark meat,” I says, “ if a 
feller’s got good teeth.” 

So Allingham just laughed and begun putting on his 
clothes, and presently I begun to feel better. I dunno why, 
but seems like I always git cheered up when Allingham 
talks foolish thataway. He ain’t never really serious — 
only over some idee mebbe, which ain’t got nothing to do 
with important things like eatin’ and drinkin’ and payin’ 
a feller’s way through the world — but yet his talking 
often makes me easier in my mind. I dunno why though. 


A MATTER OF SUBSISTENCE 


137 


“ I wonder which room Miss Hallock has? ” Allingham 
asked presently, whilst he was brushing his hair in front of 
the glass. 

“ She’ll likely run in an’ tell you if you act hotty enough,” 
I says. “ I thought you was going to be indifferent to her? ” 

“ Oh, I am — utterly so! ” he says, and begun whistling. 
And then being dressed we went downstairs to breakfast. 

On the way to the dining room we passed a table in the 
hall, with a telephone on it and a gal sitting beside it. 
She was talking through the telephone and she looked 
plumb young, and purty as a picture. A good-looking 
picture, that is. 

Me and Allingham stopped still when we seen her, and 
just then the gal finished talking and hung up the tele¬ 
phone. 

So Allingham. give a right nice bow. 

“ Miss Thomas, I presume? We’ve heard of Mr. 
Thomas’ beautiful daughters! ” 

“ Yes,” says the gal smiling right pleasant, “ I’m one 
of ’em. And if not the most beautiful, at least the most 
precious — I’m Ruby! ” 

Then I figured this was a good chance to get square with 
Allingham for mentioning to Brad about my letters to my 
gal, so I says: 

“ Why don’t you get your wife on the wire? ” 

“ Would you like to use the line? ” asked Ruby. 

“ No,” says Allingham short. Then he brung a smile 
out on his face and says: “ I suppose you have a good 
many guests this season of the year, Miss Thomas? ” 

“ Too many,” she says prompt, “ because instead of 
minding their own business they insist on taking up the 
help’s time answering foolish questions.” 

At that Allingham got right red in the face. 


LEM ALLEN 


138 

“ I didn’t expect to find such a scintillating display of 
wit in this out-of-the-way place,” he says cold. 

“ No,” says Ruby spirited, “ I reckon not. I reckon 
what you was counting on was a chance to get rid of some 
of that there wit, so called. At the expense of an innercent 
young thing that never met up with no fresh strangers 
before.” 

“ If I did I was disappointed,” says Allingham stiff; 
“ I beg your pardon! ” 

So Ruby laughed. 

“You ain’t done me no harm,” she says forgivin’; “I 
find you plumb entertaining! ” 

Just then the breakfast bell rang, so the convesation 
died out and we went in to the table. But Allingham didn’t 
say a grate deal during the meal. After he’d seen Miss 
Hallock wasn’t among those present he begun eating fast 
and was through and out on the porch rolling a cigareet 
before I’d had more’n the one helping of bacon and eggs, 
nor hadn’t hardly examined the company keerful yet. 

Brad’s oldest daughter, so he said, was the one dishing 
out the vittils. She was named Opal, and she looked plumb 
sorr’ful like wearing the name had give her bad luck. 
Sapphiry was the red-headed one waiting on the table. I 
dunno where the others, Emrald and Pearl and Beryl, was. 
In the kitchen, I reckon. They didn’t have no mother 
because she was dead, Brad claimed. 

But they was one important thing I noticed — not one 
of the other gals I seen was nigh as purty as Ruby. She 
had red hair, which as a gen’ral thing I ain’t parshul to, 
but it didn’t seem the same kind of red like Sapphiry’s, 
f’r instance. Mebbe it’s who’s wearing the hair, though, 
and not the color, that makes the difference. 

Ruby wasn’t dressed fancy none — just a plain gingham 


A MATTER OF SUBSISTENCE 


139 


dress with colored flowers on it like you could see any¬ 
wheres on carpets or wallpapers. But yet her pers’nal 
appearance was right stimulatin’. It reminded me of 
campin’ out in the hills, when you git up early in the 
mornin’ and there’s dew or mebbe a light frost on the 
ground and the trees are green and fresh and the little 
chippy birds are puttering round about their business and 
a feller gits a couple or three extry heart-beats just to 
glanse at it. That was the way with this gal Ruby. 

I explained the idee to Allingham when I went out on 
the porch, but he wasn’t overly interested — only to say 
I was fickle, which I ain’t nohow. 

“ Because a feller’s figuring on getting married,” I says, 
“ it don’t mean he’s got to look at nothing except what’s 
right ugly for the balance of his life.” 

So Allingham kind of laughed and then begun frowning 
reflectful. 

“ Let’s leave women out of our cosmos for the time 
being, Lem, and make some plans. It looks to me as if we 
might have to stay in Alma for some time.” 

“ What will we live on? ” I asked. 

So Allingham hove a sigh. 

“ On sufference, I imagine! ” 

“ It will have to be something more substantial than 
that,” I says, “ if I ain’t got this Brad Thomas figured 
out wrong. I believe he’s right close. I wouldn’t under¬ 
take to pry a nickel away from him — not for a hundred 
dollars! ” 

“ I’m afraid we’ll have to fall back on work, Lem! ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ I think it.” 

Then we didn’t say nothing for a minute and they was a 
brief pause while we examined the idee from all sides. 

“ In some ways,” Allingham says presently, “ the pros- 


140 


LEM ALLEN 


pect holds no lure whatever; yet from another viewpoint 
it can be countenanced. When one thinks of work in con¬ 
trast to being idly rich — or richly idle, if you prefer — 
one shudders at the thought of toil and flits like a hungry 
butterfly in the direction of the latter concept. But when 
one sees starvation and work advancing toward him hand 
in hand, rivals for his favor, he is apt to cry with the poet, 
‘ Lives there a man with soul so dead who never to himself 
has said, Fll try anything once! ’ And he embraces work, 
and clasps its honest hand.” 

“ Supposin’ there ain’t no work? ” 

“ There’s always work,” says Allingham mournful; “ the 
pinch comes when a feller wants to get paid money for 
doing it. It’s the old, old fight of labor for capital.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I declare I dunno what we could do. 
I ain’t seen no cattle round, and I don’t expect there’d be 
room for a cook at the hotel with them gals about — so 
that lets me out. And as for you, you ain’t give no proof 
of vers’tility as a laborin’ man since I’ve knowed you.” 

But Allingham looked at me indulgent. 

“ You forget, Lem, that work is one of those two-edged 
words that smites somebody else as often as the man who 
wieldeth it. In short, we can work ourselves or we can 
work our common enemy the Alma public, the latter plan 
being easier and more remunerative and therefore prefer¬ 
able.” 

“ Do you mean stealing? ” I asked. 

“ I can tell you better when I see whether we get away 
with it or not. But for the present we don’t have to pro¬ 
ceed to extreme measures. I’d thought of trying, first, to 
establish a line of personal credit with our host sufficient 
for our immediate needs.” 

Well, I didn’t think a grate deal of the notion, but at 


A MATTER OF SUBSISTENCE 


141 

the moment I couldn’t think up nothing better. So I let 
on I was agreeable if Allingham did the talking. 

“ Agreed,” he says, “ but in that event I think you’d 
better cast off the embargo on my drinking whiskey. I 
have a feeling that one or two may lend me eloquence.” 

“ You can drink your head off for all me,” I says, because 
I wasn’t keerin’ grately at the moment. 

So with that we moved over to the saloon. 

We found Brad leaning acrost the bar talking with 
Humferry, the subject being whether Humferry should have 
a drink for nothing or not. And when we come nigh we 
found that it had been decided not. So I ordered the 
drinks and we all had one. 

It didn’t look to me like a favorable moment to approach 
Brad for a loan of credit, but after Allingham swallered 
sev’el fingers of whiskey he taken a deep breath and a 
hitch at his trowsis and begun to look right pensif, which 
is the way he gits when he’s thinkin’ up a good strong lie. 

Then he says: 

“ Brad, you’ve made a great hit with me. I’d like to do 
something to show my appreciation.” 

Brad looked at him hard a minute, then taken his speck- 
ticles out’n the cash redishter and put them on. 

“ Make your talk, young feller,” he says; “ you got 
somethin’ on your mind.” 

“ True,” says Allingham, “ and thank you. . . . Before 
I outline my proposal I’d better tell you a little about 
myself.” 

“ Be sure it’s little,” says Brad yawning, “ and make it 
pethy if possible.” 

Then Allingham leaned forrard like he was fixin’ to re¬ 
veal something right important, and says: 


142 


LEM ALLEN 


“I’ve got a duel personality: I’m always at war with 
myself — ” 

“ That ain’t nothing to me,” Brad cut in. “ What is it 
you’re wanting? ” 

“ A chance to talk,” says Allingham irr’table. 

“ Git to the meat of it, then. And remember I ain’t 
had no sleep last night to speak on. Nor to listen on 
neither.” 

So Allingham give another hitch to his belt and didn’t 
look discouraged hardly at all. 

“ Here it is in a nutshell,” he says brisk, “ some time 
since I found myself in possession of considerable money 
and I began to think, 1 This isn’t right! ’ ” 

“ You was what wasn’t right,” Brad says more interested;’ 
“ they should of got you then.” 

“ They didn’t though, because at the time there was a 
crusade against money and moneyed men starting, and 
after I’d given what I had away I found myself right in 
fashion.” 

Brad shaken his head gloomy. 

“ That there style never reached Alma,” he says. 
“ What’s more, money has always been able to find a friend 
in me. And a safe protector.” 

“ Well,” says Allingham sying, “ I gave it the go by, 
once and for all; and since then money and I have been, if 
not total strangers, at least chance acquaintances merely. 
Why, I can raise my right hand at this minute and swear 
on a stack of almanacs a foot high I haven’t shaken hands 
with a dollar bill for days! ” 

“ Is your friend afflicted similar? ” asks Brad short-like. 

“ Not from principle — he hasn’t reached my spiritual 
level as yet. But the author business has been slack of 
late and the results attained are about the same.” 


A MATTER OF SUBSISTENCE 


143 


“ Are you fellers broke? ” 

“ It’s crudely put,” says Allingham, “ yet I can’t say 
that your diagnosis is entirely wrong, because it would be 
an untruth. . . . But here’s my plan: I figured Lem and I 
could do no better than let you give us credit for a few 
days, thus saving our lives and filling you with the happi¬ 
ness of having performed a good deed in a selfish world — 
than which, if the moralists are right, there is no greater 
bliss. ... It seemed a good idea to me, Mr. Thomas, a 
splendid idea! ” 

But Brad didn’t warm up hardly at all. 

“ It ain’t an idee you got,” he says, “ it’s a false hope. 
. . . Kin you men pay your present bill? ” 

“ If it ain’t too much we kin,” I says. 

So Brad figured out what we owed and I paid him with 
the money I had left and kept forty cents that was over. 

Then Allingham says: 

“ How about a job, Mr. Thomas? ” 

So Brad laughed harsh. 

“ My advice to you two is to git on your hosses before 
they’re took for debt and ramble on towards your destina¬ 
tion — if you got one.” 

“ Well,” says Allingham, “ come on, Lem.” 

With that he turned from the bar dejected and started 
for outside, with me follering. 

But just as he was about to go through the swingin’ door 
he run smack into that gal Ruby, who was coming in. 

Well, Allingham was shore hacked. 

“ I hope you don’t think I had a grudge against you for 
the well-merited rebuke you administered to my curiosity 
this morning! ” he says to Ruby. 

But she glansed at him cold and sniffed, kind of. 


144 


LEM ALLEN 


“If my senses don’t deceive me you need a worse 
currying now than then. You’ve been drinking! ” 

“ I have had a drop,” he says dignified, “ but it’s to my 
credit if I show the effects of it. It proves the rarity of 
my dereliction from the principle of intemperate absti- 
nance.” 

“ Either that or a weak head,” says Ruby; “ for shame 
— what would your wife say? ” 

“ I have neither the time nor the terminology to tell you,”' 
he says, moving towards the door. “ But we must go — 
don’t let’s part enemies, Miss Thomas! ” 

So Ruby laughed short. 

“ I wouldn’t call it parting exactly, because the word 
implies a previous proximity we didn’t yet reach. And as 
for being enemies, I always have violent feelings over my 
enemies, whereas the most extreme emotion I derive from 
you is a slight spinning of the head when I watch you try¬ 
ing to keep your balance. . . . Where are you off to now? ” 

“To Silver City,” says Allingham, “ if I can get this 
storm door open! ” 

He was shoving on the saloon door with one hand and 
pulling on it with the other, which surprised me because 
I couldn’t figure how one drink could get him into that 
condition. 

I reckon Ruby noticed it too, because she said decided: 

“ You’re not going to Silver City no such a thing — 
you’re going to bed.” Then she looked over at Brad. 
“ This man’s in no shape to start riding, Pop — I wisht 
you’d reason with him! ” 

“ I ain’t his keeper,” Brad says, “ though he’d ought to 
have one, for a fact.” 

“ There’s another thing,” Ruby says, “ we’re going to be 
short of dancing men for our baile Wednesday night and I 


A MATTER OF SUBSISTENCE 145 

was counting on these two. You’ve got to persuade them 
to stay! ” 

It looked like there was going to be an argyment, so 
I says: 

“ It ain’t because we want to leave so much, Miss Ruby 
— we’ve got to.” 

“ Why have you got to? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ the long in the short of it is we’ve 
been hard-luckin’ it for a spell and we’re plumb short of 
money.” 

“ Can’t you all work? ” 

“ We kin and we will,” I says earnest, “ if we git the 
chance.” 

“ Well, then,” she says cheerful, “ that’s all arranged.” 

“ Whereabouts is the work at? ” I asked. 

“ I haven’t time to settle the details,” she says impatient; 
“ I’ll let Pop attend to that. I’ve got to make out invita¬ 
tions to the dance.” 

“ Dance? ” breaks in Allingham, as she turned to leave. 
“ I wonder if that Miss Hallock who came to town last 
evening will be there? ” 

Well, Ruby swung round and stared at him plumb 
astonished. And you could see plain she wasn’t puttin’ 
it on none. 

“ Miss Hallock? ” she says like she thought he was 
crazy. “ What on earth are you talking about? ... You 
and Mr. Allen are the only guests we’ve had in Alma for a 
month! ” 

With that she turned around and walked out’n the 
saloon and left us standing. I dunno how Allingham felt, 
but for my part you could of knocked me over with a 
feather. I couldn’t immagine where Miss Hallock could of 
disappeared to nohow. 


Chapter XVII 


ALLINGHAM HAS IDEAS 


N O sooner Ruby had left the room than Brad 
glansed at Allingham and me disgusted. 

“ Now lookit what you fellers got us into,” he 
says. “ Why’n’t you go while you had a chance? ” 

“ I didn’t see no chance,” I says, “ we was surrounded.” 
I was going on to ask Brad what he wanted us to start 
workin’ at, but just then Allingham, who’d been staring at 
the door Ruby’d passed through, come out’n his trance and 
hollers: 

“ Didn’t you men hear what Miss Thomas said? What 
are you wasting time here for? . . . There may be tragedy 
in our midst! ” 

With that he busts out the door excited, calling on me 
to foller speedy. 

“ What’s wrong with that feller? ” Brad asks surprised. 
“ Is it a job he’s afeared of? ” 

“ No,” I says, “ he’s lost a gal.” 

“ He’s lost more’n a gal,” says Brad sympathetic, and 
tapped on his head with one finger. 

So I chased after Allingham and helped him saddle the 
hosses. 

“ Whereabouts you going to look for the missing heero- 
wine? ” I asked him, after he’d told me he’d find her or 
perish in the attempt. 

“We’ll scour the country! ” he says determined. 

146 


ALLINGHAM HAS IDEAS 


i47 


“ It’s too bad you had to go and ask Ruby about her,” 
I says; “ otherwise we might have been earning good money 
by now.” 

“ Too bad? . . . A heaven-sent impulse brought the ques¬ 
tion to my lips. . . . Why, not a single ingredient of romance 
is lacking: beauty in distress — lost or kidnapped, 
wounded or in deadly peril; two virile, sharp-eyed men 
keen on the miscreants’ trail — and the trail blind! It’s 
the chance of a lifetime. What more could you ask of 
fate? ” 

I was going to say a job, but they ain’t no use arguring 
with a feller in the state Allingham was in. So I just says: 

“ They ain’t no rules in this romance game that a feller 
can’t use common sense, is there? ” 

“ No,” says Allingham doubtful, “ I don’t think so.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ we’ll save consid’able time and hoss 
flesh by figuring out what couldn’t of happened in advance. 
We know Miss Hallock left Daggett’s yesterday headed 
for Alma, on the only road they is. She ain’t on the road, 
because we come over it. So she must of left the road. 
There ain’t been no rain since yesterday, so we’d ought 
to be able to cut her trail where she left the road, and 
foller it. . . . You take the right side and I’ll take the left 
hand and we’ll just ride slow out toward Daggett’s and 
see what we can see.” 

Well, Allingham shaken me by the hand and said Sher¬ 
lock Holmes hisself couldn’t of made a smarter sudgestion, 
and we rode off, one on each side of the road, bending 
over and watching the ground close as we went along. 

Of course we couldn’t make out no particular hoof 
prints in the middle of the road, which was traveled right 
reg’lar, but I couldn’t see where there was any flaws in 


LEM ALLEN 


148 

my idee of watching the sides where they would of showed 
plain on the mesa if the gal had left the road, which I 
figured she must of done in the dark. But it just shows 
that reasonin’ ain’t always a plumb reliable friend, because 
we got clean to the edge of the Daggett claim without 
seeing a single hoof mark where nobody’d left the road. 

Then we pulled up, because we could see Miz Daggett 
out in front of the cabin washin’ clothes and hear her 
singin’ to herself. At first we couldn’t make out the tune 
for the noise, but directly she come out strong on the 
chorus and we made out the end words. They was these, 
seemin’ly: 


“ Change the name of Arkinsaw? 

God a’mighty — no! ” 

Well, they was somethin’ right blood-curdlin’ to that 
woman’s voice and Allingham begun lookin’ reflectful down 
the road toward Alma, where we’d come from. 

“ I don’t believe we better scour no further,” I says, 
“ in this direction.” 

“ Perhaps you’re right, Lem,” says Allingham sying; 
“ I wish I knew where that girl was! ” 

“ She could of been taken up in a flamin’ chariot or 
she could of retraced her steps toward Springerville,” I 
says; “ in either case I reckon we’ve done our duty towards 
solving the mist’ry — for today anyhow.” 

So Allingham didn’t say no more, only turned his hoss’s 
head away from Miz Daggett’s soliliquizin’ and headed for 
where we’d started. But he was right quiet and mis’able- 
lookin’ on the return trip, for a fact. 

As we got nigh town I seen a dust risin’ to eastward 
along the road from Mogollon and presently here come 


ALLINGHAM HAS IDEAS 


149 


twenty or thirty Injuns on their ponies and one of them 
Forest Rangers ridin’ along in behind. When Allingham 
got a glimp of them he had another idee. 

“ Maybe we can get one of these aboriginals to trail 
Miss Hallock! ” he says hopeful. 

“ Mebbe,” I says, “ only they ain’t much good if they’s 
no tracks to foller.” 

So we watched them while they pulled up by the hotel 
and got down off’n their ponies and scattered round, and 
then we seen where the Ranger and the Injuns’ chief was 
heading for the saloon. So we follered to see what was 
the idee of it all. 

We got in the saloon just in time to see Brad looking 
at the Ranger surprised and to hear the Ranger say: 

“I understand there’s a justice of the peace here! ” 

“ You’re talkin’ to him,” says Brad. “ What kin I do 
for you? ” 

So the Ranger kind of blinked and says: 

“ I caught a bunch of Apaches over on the Mogollon 
reserve hunting deer, and took them in. There’s thirty- 
two in the band. I’m prepared to turn them over to you 
for trial and punishment.” 

At that Brad coughed embarrassed. 

“ Whereabouts did you say you had them Indians hid at 
the present? ” 

“ They’re camped over by the hotel. I’m looking to 
you to supply them with what they need in the way of 
food till the trial comes off. You’ll be reimbursed later, 
of course.” 

Well, Brad’s eyes bugged out like he’d seen a ghost. 

“ You left thirty-two dingbusted Injuns over by a de¬ 
fenseless hotel with chickens an’ a pig roaming round and 
a wine cellar containin’ ten or twelve gallons of the finest 


ISO 


LEM ALLEN 


grain alcohol that ever went into good pro’bition whis¬ 
key? . . . You ain’t crazy, are you? ” 

The Ranger looked kind of hacked and would of made 
a right sharp answer, I reckon, only Brad didn’t give 
him no time. 

“Sim!” he hollers to Sim Wood, which had just 
come in to see what was up, “ you step across and mount 
guard over the licker and set a couple of deppity’s around 
to see that them pests don’t git none o’ my live stock. . . . 
Humferry! You go over and see if the Chief is anybody 
we know and what kind of humor he’s in. Then come 
back and report prompt.” 

With that he relaxed hisself and looked around the room 
at the Alma fellers crowdin’ in. I declare, I didn’t know 
they was so much of a population there — they must of 
been eighteen or twenty all told. 

“ Here’s a fine mess, ” Brad says to the comp’ny, “ all 
them Injuns quartered on the town and the town pore as 
it is. It’s enough to make a man irr’table! ” 

His eyes was kind of lingering thoughtful on Ailing- 
ham as he ended, so Allingham come to the rescue prompt. 

“ As far as funds go, Mr. Thomas,” he says, “ you 
needn’t be discouraged. I’m behind you with every last 
cent of credit you’ve loaned me! ” 

So then a pleasant thought must of come to Brad, 
because he quit frowning and looked right sad. 

“ I got an idee how you can serve the community of 
Alma,” he says to Allingham; “it’ll pass as the job you 
was askin’ for not so long since. You and your friend 
kin have free board at the hotel till the dance is over if 
you make good on the assignment. . . . Jasper! ” he called 
to one of the fellers standin’ round, “ run over and git 
Sim Wood and tell him to bring the Chief here and we’ll 


ALLINGHAM HAS IDEAS 


151 

hold the trial right now. They ain’t no sense in wastin’ 
our substance on them savages when we got hardly enough 
to do with ourselves.” 

“ Hold on! ” says the Ranger, who’d been standing 
round impatient. “ These Indians are wards of the Govern¬ 
ment and they’ve got a right to be defended in whatever 
action takes place. If you’ll wait till I’ve had a chance 
to communicate with the Indian Service — ” 

“ We ain’t got time for no red tape,” Brad cut in, “ and 
as for a defender for them Injuns, I’ve got one here.” 
Then he give a wink at Allingham. “ You’ve been ad¬ 
mitted to the bar in New Mexico, ain’t you, Councillor? ” 
“Which one?” asked Allingham before he thought. 
Then he seen Brad looking at him hard and says: “ Yes, 
yes — to be sure! . . . And you’ve hit on the right man to 
speak for these unfortunate redmen, martyrs to an ancient 
prejudice. When I think of the pathos of their plight, 
haled thither for a mere peccadillo — ” 

“ Hold on,” says Brad anxious, like he was afeared 
Allingham would give out before the psychic moment come, 
“save your speech till it’s ripe! ” 

Allingham started to tell him that he was just cranking 
up like, and that they was plenty more where that came 
from and et cetera, but just then Sim come back with a 
big buck trailin’ him. It seems he’d knowed the Injun 
chief, which was named Hot Tamale in English, and the 
chief had wanted to see if he remembered the counter 
sign in Brad’s place accurate, so that’s how they come 
over so quick. 

But Brad wouldn’t serve no drinks because he says the 
saloon had been transposed into a court of justice. I 
dunno what he was meanin’ by the remark, but anyway 
he made it stick so all hands went dry. Then Brad let 


152 


LEM ALLEN 


on that he was the presidin’ Judge and everybody must 
address him as “ your honor,” even if it seemed queer. 
And he nominated the Ranger as persecutin’ attorney and 
says Allingham could be council for the defense — which 
was the Injuns. 

Well, the Ranger looked sort of put out and kept mutt’rin’ 
about law an’ order, till Brad pulled out his gun and 
pounded with the butt on the bar and hollers out, “ Oh, 
yes — oh, yes — Court’s open and ready for business!” 
and then the Ranger kept quiet till ’twas his turn. Then 
Brad told the Injun buck what ’twas all about, in ordinary 
language. 

The buck was some surprised at first, because he thought 
the Ranger had invited him and his friends over to have 
a time. He looked right disappointed when he learned 
he was arrested and started to raar round and talk loud, 
but Brad waved his .45 up and down once or twice and 
the Chief calmed down. So then he got that look on his 
face Injuns git when they want you to think they’re keer- 
less about what’s goin’ to happen and the trial begun. 

The Ranger made a right good talk and used some 
strong language about how wasteful and ornery the Injuns 
was and how the innercent deer was slottered for to make 
a roamin’ holiday for the maraudin’ redskins without any 
reason at all except that the said redskins wanted to taste 
venison steak once every so often and claimed they needed 
deerskins for new moccasins and such lux’rys. 

He ended up convinsin’ on a p’int of law. Near as I 
kin rec’lect, his per’ration was as follus: 

“ In section 863 of the statutes of 1876, chapter an’ 
verse omitted, it says where any Indian found on a 
National Forest shall be null and void and subject to 
arrest without warning. Furthermore, if said Indian shall 


ALLINGHAM HAS IDEAS 


153 

wound, kill, slotter, or maliciously annoy any of the Gov¬ 
ernment critters which is helt in sacred trust for the people 
of these here United States under bond and in escro, said 
Indian shall be deemed without benefit of clergy and shall 
be deported out of the confinement of such forest and 
turned over to the nearest qualified authority for adjudi¬ 
cation as to his crime and punishment, the same to be 
held without bail until discharged out of the jurisdiction 
of said officer or lodged in the nearest jail, penitentiary, 
workhouse or hoose gow, so called, to the end of his time 
world without end amen.” 

Well, the Alma fellers give a lite cheer and looked at 
each another admiringly on account of all the words 
they’d heard for the first time, and I thought for a minute 
Brad would have to drill Hot Tamale, he was that irr’table. 
But Brad, although he praised the Ranger polite for his 
knowledge of the law and the prophets, didn’t give no 
sign whether he believed him or not, but just motioned 
to Allingham to take the floor. 

Allingham riz up easy and ca’am, like it wasn’t a matter 
of no grate moment one way or the other. He let on 
that he wasn’t overly interested in the outcome of the 
affare, so long as justice was did to all parties concerned. 

“ My hon’able opponent,” he says polite, but with a 
smile that everybody knowed was meant to be sarcastic, 
“ has made a great pother over the law in this matter. . . . 
But what is law, fellow citizens? ” 

He give a pause and looked round inquiring at the 
Alma fellers, but nobody answered. Mebbe they didn’t 
have a right clear notion on the p’int theirselves — I 
dunno. 

“ Law,” says Allingham, answering hisself when he see 
nobody wasn’t goin’ to help him out, “ law is the will of 


154 


LEM ALLEN 


the majority enacted into statues. But has the majority 
in this instance been consulted? Have the Indians been 
consulted? Have the deer in question been consulted? . . . 
No! A hundred — aye, a thousand times — no! . . . But 
I’ll leave that line of argument — merely sudgesting to 
your honor that this is preeminently a case not for law 
but for justice — law’s elder and far nobler sister! ” 

He give another pause and the Alma fellers clapped 
their hands a time or two, because they could see by 
Brad’s face he was gettin’ persuaded to Allingham’s view. 
So then Allingham began to open up his voice and wave 
his hands right eloquent and tell how the Government 
kept the deer so hunters from the East could come out 
and shoot them and take the horns back home for to put 
up over the fireplace and lie about to their friends an’ 
family; and he told how bad the deer felt when a lot of 
strangers was allowed to chouse ’em hither and yon when 
all they really craved was to be skelped lovin’ly by their 
inmemorial companions the Injuns. It wasn’t justice to 
them deer, he claimed. 

“Nor is it justice to the noble redmen,” he come out 
strong, “ those first inhabitants of this g-great land we 
call ours but which is really theirs by virtue of discovery. 
Isn’t it enough that we’ve killed them in their thousands, 
taught them our own vile habits of drinking and gambling 
the fruits of industry away, stolen their manhood, put 
their effigies on the ignominious penny coin, stood them 
up in shame before innumerable low cigar stores, sold 
them glass beads and red cotton shirts and victrolas and 
such trinkets of small worth — isn’t that enough, or must 
we rob them finally of such innocent pastimes as hunting 
in the forests and fishing in the streams their forefathers 
enjoyed and would be yet enjoying but for two things: 


ALLINGHAM HAS IDEAS 


155 

first that they’re dead and second that it’s against the 
law! ” 

Allingham stopped abrupt with his hands raised up in 
the air like one of them statues he’d been mentioning, and 
Hot Tamale busted into tears and tried for to kiss him, 
but Allingham resisted. I’d begun to feel right sorry for 
the Injuns whilst Allingham was talking, and Brad had to 
use his handkercher a time or two before he could control 
hisself enough to give jedgment on the rights of the case. 

But finally he spoke up slow and says: 

“ It would be beyond human endurance for my honor 
not to be affected by the plea council for the defense has 
put up for the culprits taken in corpus delictus, as us 
jurists say. But it would be similar impossible, as an 
official sworn to uphold the law, for me to overlook the 
fact that the defendants is guilty. So I hereby fine Hot 
Tamale and his outfit in the sum of one hundred dollars, 
cash money.” 

The Ranger looked pleased, sort of, and turned round 
and left the saloon. But most of the rest present looked 
as if they didn’t know what to make of the decision. 
Hot Tamale was the only one that seemed right sure of 
his feelin’s, and he let out a yell you could hear clean to 
Silver City, I’ll gamble. And with that a bunch of bucks 
come lopin’ over and busted into the saloon to see what 
all the row was about. Mebbe they figured the Chief 
had took his first drink of Brad’s licker — I dunno. 

Then Brad looked at Allingham funny and I begun to 
git the geeseflesh up and down my nervous system, be¬ 
cause I figured somethin’ unpleasant was about to happen. 
Nor I wasn’t far wrong, because Brad says: 

“ The council for the defense made the p’int that this 
court had ought to be more concerned with justice than 


LEM ALLEN 


156 

with law, and the court agrees with him. In pursuance 
of that there principle the court hereby decides that if the 
Injuns clear out’n town within ten minutes they won’t 
have to pay the fine, privilege of payin’ which is reserved 
for Attorney Allingham who has so eloquently testified to 
how he’d like to help his clients out of the jam they got 
themselves into.” 

Well, for a spell you couldn’t hear nothin’ for the noise 
of the Injuns gittin’ gone and the Alma fellers cheerin’. 
Allingham’s voice, which he was tryin’ for to use, was 
plumb lost in the shuffle. Then when the sounds died 
down a little Brad says to Allingham pleasant, before he 
could git in his talk: 

“ Supper’s now ready at the hotel, Councillor. You 
and your friend and your two hosses is welcome for the 
evening — you’ve done earnt your keep this day! ” 

“ But how about the hundred dollars fine? ” Alling¬ 
ham asks surprised. 

“ Sho! ” says Brad, “ we won’t quarrel over that. You 
kin give me your note for the amount and I’ll agree not 
to levy on it — at least till Ruby’s dance is through with! ” 


Chapter XVIII 


HAZARDS OF SUCCESS 


W ELL, Allingham and me et a right nurrishen meal 
in spite of the various probullums hangin’ over 
our heads like, and then we stepped out in 
Brad’s back yard — which was consid’able of a yard 
stretching nine mile or better to the foothills of the 
Mogollons — and walked up and down a spell smokin’ 
and discussin’ of our chances for weathering the storm, 
as you might call it. 

We were concerned first off with how we was to pay 
the note Allingham had give Brad for the hundred dollar 
fine, because till that was settled Brad could attach our 
hosses and leave us afoot any time he was a mind to. 

“ Looks like to me we’ll just have to stay here in Alma 
a while and work out the debt,” I says. 

Allingham wasn’t saying much, just smoking reflectful 
and pondering. But finally he give hisself a shake and 
says: 

“ There’s a number of loose ends poking out of the 
present situation, Lem — and we’ve got to pick the right 
one to pull on, to untie the knot. The matter of our 
finances is awkward, I’ll admit, but still I have a feeling 
that it’s incidental to the main issue.” 

“ Well,” I says surprised, “ the main issue must be right 
momentious in that case.” 

“ I agree with you. ... I think that Miss Hallock is mixed 
up with it somehow, and that simple-looking mining chap 

i57 


LEM ALLEN 


158 

she left at Vegas and expects to meet here ... and I wouldn’t 
be surprised if the key to a solution of our difficulties turns 
out to be the Golden Nuggett mine! ” 

“What! ” I says. “You’re funnin’! ” 

I says this because I couldn’t make myself believe that 
they was anything to one of old Andrew Jackson’s pros¬ 
pects. But Allingham seemed right serious. He was 
staring at the black ridge of mountains beyond the mesa 
rim, where the claim was at. 

“ I may be wrong, Lem — but I have a hunch I’m not. 
I’ll tell you something: I didn’t land at Arnold’s without 
a certain vague plan in mind. I’d heard something about 
this Mogollon tract — even about Andrew and his claim. 
I’d learned that an Eastern syndicate has been acquiring 
holdings about Mogollon, in a quiet way. It’s just pos¬ 
sible this claim of ours is in the group they’re after. . . . 
There’s a lot of gold in those hills! ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ and there’s a sight of money in the 
Gov’ment mint. It’s gettin’ our hands on it that’s the 
hitch.” 

So Allingham laughed. 

“ True enough. But if we get a price from the syndi¬ 
cate we won’t have to work the claim. ... Of course I may 
be all off, but still it’s a chance. We’ll have to find where 
the claim is and make some inquiries in regard to the 
general situation. ... In the meantime it wouldn’t hurt if 
we could get together a small stake to keep us going — 
let me think a moment! ” 

So I didn’t say nothing, because this was one of the 
few times I’d heard Allingham talk as if he had gump¬ 
tion, and I was relishin’ the sound. 

Presently he put his hand in his coat pocket for the 
makin’s and drawed out a cent which he didn’t know was 


HAZARDS OF SUCCESS 


159 

there. He stood turnin’ it over in his fingers and starin’ 
at it like he was fassinated. 

“Here’s luck! ” he says soft, like an idee was sproutin’ 
in his mind. 

“ I ain’t denyin’ it, 5 ’ I says, “ but yet it ain’t much 
luck.” 

Then all of a sudden Allingham’s eyes begun to open 
up and glissen and a smile come over his face. 

“ You’ve got some change left, haven’t you, Lem? ” 

“ Forty cents,” I says. 

“ Come on! ” he says eager, and drug me by the arm 
towards the saloon. 

“Wait up! ” I says. “We ain’t got enough to start 
drinkin’ on! ” 

“We’re going to gamble! ” 

“Hah!” I says sarcastic. “Not me — my heart’s 
weak! ” 

But when we got to the saloon and Allingham went to 
the pool table and begun rollin’ the balls around the table 
with his hand, I begun to get interested. He’d roll a ball 
around from one comer and it would hit on three cushions 
and drop in the pocket where he was standin’ — sometimes. 

“ The one who does that the most often out of the 
fifteen balls takes the money,” he explains. 

It looked easy, so I let on I was agreeable to bet, and 
so Allingham put up his lucky cent and I put up a cent 
and got two balls out’n the bunch and Allingham got four, 
so he took the two cents. 

Then we bet two cents each and Allingham win. Then 
we bet four cents each and I lost. And in about a half 
hour Allingham was worth forty-one cents and I was 
broke. 

“ It ain’t as easy as it looks,” I says. 


i6o 


LEM ALLEN* 


“ No,” says Allingham thoughtful, “ it reminds me some 
of Brad Thomas.” 

Then he begun rolling the balls around and whistling 
loud and cheery. They was still a consid’able crowd left 
from them who had come over when the Injuns blowed 
in town, and some of the fellers who’d been watching the 
poker game come over soon and begun to watch Allingham. 
And finally one of them asks: 

“ What all kind of a game is that? Kin two play? ” 

“ As many as want to can play,” says Allingham, and 
he explains the workings of it to them. “ We can start 
at a quarter bet, if that suits you? ” 

So three or four of them put up quarters and I helt the 
stakes. 

Allingham win the first game and a dollar four bits. 
Then he lost the second game which was win by Sim Wood, 
and then he win two or three games hand running. 

“ This is good sport,” says Sim Wood, which if I ain’t 
told you, was one of them kind of fellers which wears a 
seventeen collar and a six hat; “but the stakes ain’t high 
enough to put a man on his metal. Let’s play for a dollar 
ante! ” 

So that’s what they done, only nobody win ary game 
after that only Allingham. 

Finally one or two dropped out because they was broke, 
but in the meanwhile the poker players, hearing the noise 
at the pool table, had quit their cards and gathered round 
to see what the excitement was about. And as fast as 
one dropped out they was another to join in. 

It went on like that for an hour or better. And all the 
time the crowd in the saloon was growing bigger, seemed 
like, instead of less. 


HAZARDS OF SUCCESS 


161 


Allingham began to lose now every once in so often, 
and usually to Sim Wood, who was improving with the 
practise he got; but still he win most of the games and my 
pockets were getting plumb full of money — because in 
one pocket I helt the stakes and in the other the winnings 
Allingham had made. 

Then Brad Thomas, who had been watching from aloof, 
come over beside of me and says: 

“ What kind of a enterprise is this your ingeenyus friend 
is starting round here? ” 

“ It’s a new game,” I says. 

“I thought as much,” says Brad; “ what might be the 
name of it? ” 

Just then Allingham finished shooting his turn and 
moved over where we was. 

“ It’s called Pickpocket Pool,” he says. 

So Brad studied a minute, whilst he watched the feller 
called Jasper shooting with his tongue bit hard betwixt 
his teeth, and then says: 

“ You fellers are getting together a sight of money, 
ain’t you? ” 

“ Yes,” says Allingham indifferent, “ we had to do 
something, so we picked the population of Alma to work 
on. I haven’t counted our stake yet but I imagine we’ll 
have enough to pay my note to you and snap our fingers 
in the face of toil for the remainder of our visit.” 

When Allingham says this I begun to feel right good, 
and run our money through my fingers so as to hear it 
chinkin’ together. 

But Brad didn’t seem excited hardly at all. He just 
looked at Allingham like he was sorry for him and shaken 
his head slow. 

“ It’s too bad,” he says solemn, “ two bright young 


162 LEM ALLEN 

fellers like you be — ! ” Then he stopped like it hurted 
him to go on. 

“ What are you getting at? ” asks Allingham suspicious. 

“ Why,” says Brad, “ if my ears don’t deceive me I kin 
hear the best part of all the loose cash in Alma jingling 
not two feet distance at the present moment. And these 
Almians ain’t going to part with that money permanent — 
not if they kin help it! ” 

“Why, I won it fair and square! ” says Allingham. 

“ Shore. An’ the boys’ll win it back fair and square, 
if they kin manage it. They’ve been sending scouts out 
for the past hour to draw in new blood and silver dollars. 
But if they fail to recover the community cap’tal by honest 
gambling — watch out! . . . They ain’t had no lynchings 
round here recent and they’re out of practise, but I reckon 
they could still make out to stretch a neck or two if ’twas 
thought best.” 

Brad looked so sympathetic when he says this that I 
begun to git worrited, and even Allingham glansed round 
serious. 

“ Surely these men wouldn’t do such an unsportsman¬ 
like trick! Why, it would be cold-blooded murder on their 
part! ” 

“ Either that or hot-blooded suicide on yourn,” says 
Brad, “ depending on from whence a feller examines the 
affare. Because it’s got beyond sport now— it’s degener¬ 
ated into a matter of business.” 

“ I see,” says Allingham thoughtful. 

“ You may not realize it,” Brad went on, “ but you’ve 
done twisted a turnicue on the arteries of trade hereabouts 
during the last hour or two. . . . Here’s the situation — 
they’s just so much money in town to keep things moving. 
It don’t matter if the boys lose some of it to each another, 


HAZARDS OF SUCCESS 


163 

because it evens up in time. Nor it don’t matter if drinks 
is bought, because I make it a practise to drop enough in 
the poker game each night to keep the supply of cash 
in hand normal. But if any substantial portion of this 
sinking fund should leave town in the clothes of a non¬ 
resident, it would be nothing less’n a municipal calamity and 
it ain’t li’ble to happen.” 

Well, nobody said nothing for a minute, but Allingham 
examined the feller shooting right keerful and I taken 
my hand out of my pocket because I figured they wasn’t no 
use to show off by making a noise with our money. 

“ You could step in between one of these fellers and his 
wife,” Brad says, “ and you wouldn’t likely git more’n a 
scratched face or a black eye, depending on how you was 
standing; but put yourself in the way of his daily manna 
an’ you’ll be lucky to git out alive. The last gent to win 
any amount here was a Santa Fee gambler ridin’ one of 
the best hosses I ever see. A couple of days later they 
found he’d shot hisself accidental, down the road a piece. 
He was plumb dead.” 

“ Forewarned is disarmed,” says Allingham. “ What 
would you do if you were in my place? ” 

“ First off,” says Brad, “ I wouldn’t be in your place — 
the idee’s ridicklus. Then again, I ain’t one to offer advice 
to nobody. But offhanded I’d say your course of action 
will depend on which is strongest, your avarishness or your 
wish for a safe and pleasant voyage hence.” 

Allingham’s turn to shoot came then, so he shot. But 
he didn’t perform with the same sperrit and dash, as you 
might say, which he had showed before. He lost sev’el 
games hand running. 

Nor I wasn’t nothing loath to feel my pockets getting 
lighter, neither. I’d begun to figure ’twould be a heap 


LEM ALLEN 


164 

easier not to have to pack around such a unwieldy amount 
of money. ’Twas getting right burdensome, for a fact. 

Whilst I was decidin’ this there come a lullin’ in the 
game and all the Alma fellers got in a bunch and begun 
talking earnest together. So I counted up the winnings 
and found they come to about three hundred dollars. 

“ How much did you start out with? ” Brad asked 
Allingham. 

“ A cent.” 

“ A lucky cent,” I adds. 

Then Brad begun to whistle reflectful and after a 
minute he says to Allingham: 

“ You got a wonderful nerve, ain’t you? ” 

“ I’m not totally lacking in moral courage,” Allingham 
says. 

“ I was speaking more special of immoral courage — 
commonly callt gall,” Brad says, and he was going on to 
say some more only just then Sim Wood left the bunch of 
Almians and come over to where we was. 

“I’ve been choosed to represent Alma in the wind-up of 
this here contest,” he explains. “ You’ve done win right 
smart of our money, Stranger, and some of the boys is 
sufferin’ extreme so we decided not to spin out the agony 
no longer. You’ve got about three hundred dollars, we 
figure; and we’ve got about the same sum left. So I’ll 
just roll you for a hundred dollars a whirl till one of us 
is bust! ” 

Allingham didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about the 
sudgestion, but they wasn’t nothing he could do but play. 
So he let on he was agreeable and him and Sim tossed up 
a nickel to see who’d shoot first and Sim win the toss. So 
he taken the pool balls and stood at the end of the table 
determined and everybody helt their breaths. 


HAZARDS OF SUCCESS 


165 

Then Sim leaned over and made a pass or two and rolled 
right cautious, and the ball swung round the table and 
come back and dropped into the pocket slick as you please. 
And at that all the Almians set up a yelling so’s you couldn’t 
hear yourself think, till Sim motioned to them to quit. 

He missed the second ball but got the third, then he 
missed sev’el hand running. And when the crowd found 
he’d put down only six balls out’n the lot they seemed 
right discouraged and didn’t shout much. 

They didn’t make no noise neither when Allingham got 
up to shoot, just looked at him right earnest. But I reckon 
if wishes was hosses, like the feller says, he’d of been 
kicked in the back a couple or three times before he was 
a minute older. 

He seemed fidgetty when he begun and missed the first 
four or five balls, which clotted up around the pocket 
so’s to block the pathway for the others. And he cussed 
once or twice, but not right convinsin’. So I begun to 
figure he was taking Brad’s advice to play off and lose 
back some of the money. And when he’d done finished 
rolling I knowed it, because he only got four balls to Sim’s 
six, and the first game was lost. 

Well, you should of heard them Alma fellers yell! ’Twas 
right sickening, for a fact, and I begun to wish it wasn’t 
strategy for Allingham to lose. But still I was aware he 
was only actin’ sensible. 

Presently Allingham stood up to lead off for the second 
game. He waited a minute at the end of the table, and 
everybody got quiet all of a sudden like they had before. 
But just as he was fixing to make the first roll the saloon 
door swang open and three strangers walked in. 

The first was a smooth-faced young feller in one of 
them city ridin’ suits and the second was a white bulldog 


LEM ALLEN 


166 

and the third was a Mexican. You could of knocked me 
over with a fether — three visitors coming to Alma that- 
away at once, and no warning beforehand! 

Then when they come closer I might’ nigh fell over 
without being knocked at all, because the feller in the 
ridin’ suit was the feller we’d seen last kissing Miss Hallock 
good-bye on the platform at Vegas, and the Mexican was 
no other than Encarnacion Sena, the lawyer which had 
bought the other half of the option on Andrew Jackson’s 
mine. The dog I hadn’t never met before. 


Chapter XIX 


LUCK LEAVES THE SCENE 


W HEN I seen the stranger feller I looked at Ailing- 
ham quick to see if he reckernized him and he 
did, because he give a start and glansed at the 
feller dissatisfied. But the young feller didn’t act like he’d 
seen us before, which when I come to think of it I reckon 
he hadn’t. As for the Mexican, you couldn’t tell what 
one of them varmints was thinking not if he was fixing to 
cut your throat the next minute. 

The Almians was diverted also when they seen the new¬ 
comers, and for a minute forgot the pool game. Because 
while that was right important in a way they knowed it 
would wait, and the strangers helt more chances of free 
drinks than the game. So Allingham waited patient while 
the unsettlement continued, and Brad stepped behind the 
bar and waited also, polishing glasses businesslike. 

The stranger feller nodded pleasant to the comp’ny and 
moved to the bar and says: 

“ If I’m not mistaken it’s the custom of the country for 
a new arrival to buy drinks for the house! ” 

So Brad put him right. 

“ It’s a custom of tourists coming into the country from 
the city,” he says, “ which aim to make up for the small¬ 
ness of their acquaintance by the largeness of their 
generosity. However, you kin buy if you’re a mind to — 
it won’t be throwed onto the floor.” 

167 


168 LEM ALLEN 

At that the feller laughed and bought a round for the 
house. 

Then Brad bought a drink and says: 

“ I ain’t inhospitable, mister, but I got to tell you that 
your cornin’ in when you did broke up a right important 
conferens of the business men of Alma, which are gathered 
together tonight to resist a onslaught on their hardly won 
savings.” 

Then he told him about the situation and how the contest 
stood and all and the feller seemed right interested. 

“ It looks like a sporting affair,” he says. “ Isn’t there 
any way I can get in on it? ” 

“ The game’s all set,” says Allingham short-like. 

From the way he was acting I could see he didn’t cotton 
to the stranger feller none, and it surprised me because it 
wasn’t like Allingham to hold a grudge agin nobody — 
especially when he hadn’t any to begin with. Then I 
happened to remember how he’d swore when he seen the 
feller kissin’ Miss Hallock good-bye at Vegas, and I 
thought, well, it’s jellesy. 

But the feller didn’t seem to notice it. 

“ Maybe I can get to bat next innings,” he says cheerful. 

“Surely — if I win! ” Allingham says. 

Then he give a smile, plumb cold-blooded, and begun to 
roll. And it wasn’t no time till I seen something had took 
place in his mind. At the time I didn’t figure out he 
wanted to gamble with the stranger feller and needed a 
stake to gamble with, but I reckon that was it because 
seems like he clean overlooked the ticklish position we’d 
be in if he win from the Alma fellers. 

And I begun to get excited myself when I seen the shots 
he was making. I knowed it was foolish, but it shore done 
me good to watch the way he dropped them balls into the 


LUCK LEAVES THE SCENE 


169 

pocket. Even the Almians give up hope and let loose a 
grone every time he picked up another ball, because I reckon 
they figured Allingham had done trained them private for 
the occasion. 

When he got through they counted up eleven balls he’d 
made, and it didn’t look like it was hardly worth Sim’s 
while to roll. But Sim was a gambler, and he done better 
than he had during the whole evening, and put down seven 
balls — which was right good for him. So Allingham win. 
But nobody yelled only me and it sounded right lonesome, 
though it shore give me a heap of pleasure, for a fact. 

The third game came out like the second, except that 
Allingham shot last and only put down enough balls to 
beat Sim. Then Sim walked over and jined the Almians 
and they all begun talking together low and rapid. It give 
me the creeps, kind of, to notice them, after what Brad 
had said. So I offered to hand over the winnings to 
Allingham, because they was his by rights. But he asked 
me to keep them till he’d played a time or two with the 
stranger feller. 

“ Let’s start light,” the feller says, “ for ten dollars a 
game! ” 

So they rolled a few games and Allingham win without 
half trying. Then the feller begun to get impatient. 

“ Suppose we try stud poker? ” he sudgests. 

But he lost more at that than in the pool game. He was 
drinking right smart, and though he taken his losses easy 
he begun to show a flush around the cheek bones and his 
eyes was glitt’ring like they do when the gambling fever 
gets aholt of a man. 

Then finally he put in his last bill and set back and 
drawed out a check book and a fountain pen. And begun 
to write out a check. 


170 


LEM ALLEN 


“ What’s that for? ” Allingham asked. 

“ I’m out of cash,” the feller answers; “ I’ll have to give 
you a check.” 

“ I can’t use it,” says Allingham short, and with that 
he began to whistle and shuffle the cards absent-minded. 

The stranger got right red in the face. 

“ I hope you don’t mean to imply my check isn’t good? ” 

“ It’s no good to me,” says Allingham. “ Perhaps Mr. 
Thomas will take it? ” 

“ No,” says Brad hasty, “ he won’t.” 

The young feller frowned and looked from one to the 
other of them like he didn’t know what to make of it, and 
for a minute I was afeared they was going to be words 
passed, what with his drinking and all. 

But suddenly his face cleared up and he slapped on 
the table with his hand. Then he drawed a folded-up 
paper out of his pocket and laid it out flat. 

“ I have it! ” he says. “ Here’s an option on a mining 
claim — on a half interest in the claim, to be exact — 
which you may be willing to take as security for my 
check! ” 

Brad yawned and looked at his watch like he was fixing 
to go, but Allingham asked: 

“ What’s the option worth? ” 

The feller sort of laughed. 

“ It may be worth a million and it may be worth nothing. 
I came out here to examine the claim. I can’t tell you any 
more till I’ve looked at it.” 

“ What did you pay for the option? ” 

“ Five hundred dollars.” 

At that Allingham leaned over eager: 

“ What’s the name of this claim? ” 

“ The Golden Nuggett! ” says the feller. 


LUCK LEAVES THE SCENE 


171 

Allingham give a quick glanse at me and smiled, sort of, 
and I was right surprised. Because it come to me all in a 
flash like that Sena must of bought the option from Andrew 
to sell to this feller, and that this was the feller which had 
made the date with Miss Hallock to meet her in Alma where 
he had to come to examine the claim. What had gone 
wrong with the ingagement I didn’t know — nor I wasn’t 
keerin’ at the moment, because from a pers’nal p’int of 
view the balance of the situation looked to me like right 
interesting of a intaglio, as they call it. 

Well, after Allingham had tossed me that glanse he set 
back smiling easy, but his eyes was shining like he was 
pleased. Then before I knowed what was his plans he 
reached in his inside coat pocket and pulled out our option 
and laid it on the table. 

“ There’s the complement to your contract! ” he says to 
the feller. “ If Mr. Allen, my partner, hasn’t any objections 
I’ll enlarge a little on your proposal — I’ll play you a game 
of pitch for the ownership of both options! ” 

The stranger’s eyes bugged out when he seen the two 
options side by side. I reckon for a minute he thought he 
was seein’ double. But he was game, because after a 
minute he drawed a breath and says keerless: 

“ Nothing could be fairer, friend — cut the cards for 
deal! ” 

The Almians had all gathered round, waiting watchful 
to see what happened to their money; but when they 
heard the game was to be for a gold mine they watched 
harder than ever. Then Allingham cut the cards for deal 
and as he done so I heard a noise behind me and saw that 
Mexican Sena sneaking out of the saloon door. And while 
they wasn’t no reason why a Mexican changing his position 
should of made me nervous, yet it did. I was getting plumb 
supersuspicious, I reckon. 


LEM ALLEN 


172 

Well, the pitch game come out just like I was afeared 
it would. Allingham kept on playing unlucky and win. 
And with that all the Almians drawed off together again 
and begun talking more feverish than ever. 

The stranger give a smile and says: 

“ I guess that’s my limit tonight. . . . But about this 
claim: I’m a mining engineer by profession and took a 
flyer this time on my own hook because — well, because I 
have some information which may lend value to the Golden 
Nuggett if it proves up. I haven’t asked you how you 
happened to own the option you started with — you’re not 
in the business, are you? ” 

So Allingham shaken his head. 

“ Lem and I just put some money in this prospect for 
safekeeping.” 

“ Well,” the feller says, “ I was going over to inspect 
the claim in the morning — and I think I’ll still go. If 
it’s what I think I may have an interesting proposition to 
put to you when I get back. If you’re still here? ” 

“ He’ll be here,” says Brad solemn. 

Allingham looked at Brad reflectful and I taken the win¬ 
nings out of my pocket and give them to Allingham. Then 
Allingham looked at Brad again and says: 

“ I wish you’d put these valuables in the safe for me, 
Mr. Thomas! ” 

So Brad passed him the note for a hundred dollars he’d 
give for the Injuns’ fine and says: 

“ I’ll take a hundred — for legal debt. The rest you got 
to accept the responsibility for yourself.” 

So Allingham shoved the money in his pocket and begun 
tearing the note into little pieces. 

“ Mebbe you better swaller them,” I says; “ it’s always 
safer.” 


LUCK LEAVES THE SCENE 


173 


I dunno whether he would of took my advice or not, 
because just then the saloon door come open and that 
Mexican sheriff stomped in, waving a couple of guns and 
follered by the lawyer Sena. 

“ I understand the law agin gambling’s been broke,” the 
sheriff hollers. “ Whereabouts is the culprits? ” 

Everybody looked at him surprised, and one or two 
fellers made a motion to go for their guns, but the sheriff 
throwed down on them before they got going good. 

“ Don’t nobody move! ” he hollers again. “ It ain’t 
nothing to me if I kill a couple or three men. I just heard 
they’s been gambling going on here and I’m after the 
crim’nals.” 

It give me a turn to hear him talking foolish thataway, 
because he was one of the first fellers we’d seen in the 
poker game when we hit town. But Brad didn’t seem 
astonished none. 

“ Are you after the losers or the winners? ” he asks. 

“The winners,” says the sheriff; “the losers has done 
been punished enough already.” 

At that Allingham give a sigh and says: 

“ It looks like tag day for me, Mister Sheriff — I’m the 
only winner left in all Alma, I’m afraid! ” 

So the sheriff arrested Allingham and appointed that 
lawyer Sena as a deppity and ordered him to search the 
pris’ner, and Sena taken the money off Allingham and give 
it to the sheriff and put the two option contracts in his own 
pockets. Then the sheriff give a wave with his gun towards 
the door and says to Allingham: “ Come on! ” 

“ Come on? ” says Allingham surprised. “ Where to? ” 

“To jail,” says the sheriff frank; “you’re too dangerous 
of a felon to be left at large.” 

Well, for a minute I was afeared Allingham was going 


174 


LEM ALLEN 


to jump the sheriff but he didn’t, because I reckon he de¬ 
cided the sheriff was serious. So instead he give a lite 
laugh and looked at me and says: 

“ Adios, Lem — I’ll see you later! ” 

And with that him and Sena and the sheriff moved out’n 
the saloon, the sheriff leaving last and holding his guns 
keerful so’s they could be shot off easy. 


Chapter XX 


THE RESCUE PARTY 

W HEN the sheriff passed out of sight sev’el of the 
Alma fellers drawed their guns hasty and made 
a run for the door. 

“ HoP on! ” Brad hollers, and they all waited to hear 
what he had to say. “ Don’t let your impulses git away 
with your judgments! Whatever you fellers are fixing to 
do, you’d best figure out your plans calm in advance.” 

“ We got to git our money back! ” says Sim Wood de¬ 
termined. 

“ Shore,” Brad says soothing, “ but they’s ways an’ 
ways. ... You mustn’t forget that while the sheriff don’t 
amount to much hisself yet he’s got the law behind him 
and that’s backed up by a lot of fellers over to Socorro 
which has something to say. We can’t afford to have the 
fair name of Alma p’inted at throughout the len’th and 
breadth of the county court-house as a outlaw village. 
There mustn’t nothing happen to the sheriff inside the 
town limits! ” 

“ They ain’t no law agin follerin’ him till he gits outside 
them limits,” says Sim. 

“ No,” says Brad, “ they ain’t.” 

So then the Almians seen what Brad was meaning and 
they all run out to git their hosses and trail the sheriff. 
And I was starting with them because I’d got right worked 
up over the affare; but Brad stopped me. 


US 


LEM ALLEN 


176 

“ You best stay here,” he says, “ and not desert your 

X 

feller sufferer over to the jail. Besides, I’m responsible to 
Ruby for you being present at her dance all shipshape 
and in good order — and I don’t want you should take any 
more chances of bein’ kilt than you kin help.” 

“ Perhaps you’re right,” I says, after I’d thunk over 
what he said. “ When do you reckon they’ll leave Allingham 
out of jail? ” 

“ It depends some on what luck the boys has with the 
sheriff tonight — but don’t git discouraged. Your friend 
ain’t nigh so valuable a soovenir now as he was an hour 
back. I don’t reckon they’ll leave him languish only long 
enough so’s it will look respectable to turn him loose.” 

So I felt better, and set down to the table with the 
stranger feller who’d been watching what took place right 
interested. I asked him what he figured we’d best do 
about the Golden Nuggett claim, now that our options 
was taken off us by that lawyer Sena. Then I told him 
about how Allingham and me had met Sena when we got 
the option off Andrew and how come we’d started for Alma 
and all. 

He seemed apsorbed in the yarn and let on he was the 
feller Mr. Arnold, the boss at the Bar T, had been taking 
round looking for mining prospects. But he didn’t say 
nothing about Miss Hallock, nor either did I, because I 
wasn’t well enough acquainted with him to mention his 
wimmin folks to him. 

Finally he says: 

“ When your friend gets out of jail I’ll have a talk with 
him. I wouldn’t be surprised if we could do some business 
together. In the meantime we needn’t worry over the title 
to the claim, which still vests in old Jackson — the im¬ 
portant thing for us to do is find out where the claim is and 


THE RESCUE PARTY 


177 

what it amounts to. If I can get a guide I’ll ride over in the 
morning, as I’d planned, and see what I can discover.” 

“ I’ll git you a guide,” Brad says; “ that’s easy.” 

So the stranger feller thanked him and asked could he 
git credit till he was in funds again and Brad said he 
reckoned his hoss and outfit was wuth a gamble and so 
the feller went on over to bed. Brad and the bulldog went 
with him and the little tow-headed feller we’d seen the 
night we come, and which was named Stub Whitson, was 
left behind to tend bar. 

Then me and Stub had a drink together. 

I hadn’t hardly ever seen this Stub when he wasn’t 
either mixing a drink or swallering it. He looked right 
peakid and I figured he was drinking too much. 

So I says: 

“ Stub, why’n’t you quit drinking? ” 

“ Why’n’t you quit yourself? ” he says. 

“ Well, I have thought of it more’n once.” 

“ I kin say the same,” he admitted, “ and no longer ago 
than last month I made me a resolution never to take 
more’n one drink at a time.” 

“ If you would only take one every other time it would 
be better,” I says, “ because it’s easy seen you’re getting 
to be a drunkard, Stub! You’d ought to undergo a cure 
for the habit.” 

“ I am,” he says. 

“ What kind of a cure? ” I asks surprised. 

“ The whiskey cure — which is the only sure one they 
is. ... Nor they ain’t no after effects for the patient 
drinker, neither.” 

So I seen what he was driving at. 

“ The after effects on the survivin’ remnants of your 
fam’ly would be unpleasant,” I says; “funerals is right 
expensive these days, Stub! ” 


LEM ALLEN 


178 

“Well, I would of quit drinking, wouldn’t I? That’s the 
main p’int in a cure.” 

So I didn’t say no more at the time, because I seen it 
wasn’t no use to try and reform Stub — he was too mule¬ 
headed. And besides, I didn’t have no hold on him, though 
for a minute I wished I had. It’s funny how fellers always 
want to inflict their idees on other fellers which like as 
not ain’t doing them no manner of harm. Like me in this 
junction, f’r instance. I would of liked first rate to have 
been able to make Stub do like I wanted and quit drinking, 
though it really wasn’t hurting me none — only in the 
mind. 

Well, seems like reasonin’ didn’t make me feel no more 
tol’rant and the more I thought about the matter the more 
irr’tated I got, till finally I remembered that his drinking 
wouldn’t worrit me nigh so much if I was absent from 
where it was happening. So I said good-night and went 
over to take a look at the jail, from the outside. 

This jail was a dobey shack with no windows and only 
the one door. The door was locked and I couldn’t git in, 
nor I couldn’t hear no sounds when I knocked on it, because 
it was too thick. So I went out behind the jail and dumb 
up on a sawdust pile that was left from an old set which 
used to be there, and begun to feel plumb lonesome. It 
looked like luck had shore left the vicin’ty for me and 
Allingham. 

But I hadn’t been there a grate while when I heard 
somebody climbing the sawdust pile, and when I looked 
around cautious I seen a head peering over the edge. ’Twas 
right spooky, and I begun to git that prickly heat feeling 
like chile tastes, only it was cold instead of hot. 

“ Who all’s that? ” I asked, gripping my gun hard. 

“ It’s only me! ” says a voice, and then when I looked 
closer I seen it was that gal Ruby. 


THE RESCUE PARTY 


179 

She crawled over and sat down beside of me and I begun 
to feel more cheerful, and not lonesome hardly at all. 

“ How come you to be out this late hour, Miss Thomas? ” 
I asked polite. 

So she looked at me funny and says: 

“ Don’t be a fool — my name’s Ruby. ... I was wait¬ 
ing over at the hotel for you with Pop’s pass-key to the 
jail, so we could rescue that fresh friend of yours. When 
you didn’t show up I went over and asked Stub where you 
were and he told me and I saw you climbing up here. ... I 
feel sort of responsible for Allingham’s being where he is, 
because it was me persuaded Pop to let you two stay in 
Alma.” 

“ O, I wouldn’t feel bad, Miss Ruby,” I says, “ we ain’t 
made out so turr’ble. Why, for a couple of hours Allingham 
was the most prom’nent citizen in the community! . . . 
And if he’d only listened to sense and give them fellers 
their money back before it was too late he’d be free at this 
minute. I dunno but what being in jail is partly his own 
fault, when you think of it.” 

“ Well — we can’t leave him there all night anyway.” 

“ No,” I says, “ but I don’t believe it’ll do him no harm 
to stay put a mite longer. He ain’t had a right good chance 
to catch up with his thoughts recently. P’r’aps we best set 
here till the moon goes down and mebbe by that time he 
will of had a suffishen lesson.” 

So Ruby laughed. 

“ This sawdust pile isn’t a very romantic try sting place,” 
she says. 

“ Well,” I says, “ it’s dry and soft and you can’t see it 
plain at night. You might think it was something else if 
you could forget what it was.” 

“ I might if it was anything but sawdust — ignoring that 


i 8 o 


LEM ALLEN 


word would be unnatural. . . . Besides, what would your 
fiancee say if she knew you were sitting here with another 
girl? ” 

“ I dunno,” I says; “ that’s one of the many things 1 
ain’t got the answer to offhanded.” 

I couldn’t immagine what made me talk foolish thataway; 
but I was feeling right keerless and light-headed. Mebbe 
it was me having had too much excitement during the 
evening for my health, but I dunno. 

However, Ruby didn’t seem overly surprised. She just 
asked: 

“ Is your intended good-looking? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I didn’t pick her for looks, but she 
ain’t marked none in the face. She’s one a stranger 
wouldn’t run away from, nor yet towards. And she’s 
right ruddy-complected — she works in a steam laundry.” 

“You must love her madly! ” 

“ Well,” I says, some hacked, “ I don’t surrender to 
violent immotions as a rule, but I reckon I got to admit 
being serious in this affare else I wouldn’t have corresponded 
so faithful.” 

“Shucks! That’s just habit — if you were badly hit 
you’d know it without documentary proof! ” 

It kind of riled me, her tellin’ me about what I thunk and 
what I didn’t think thataway. 

“ Seems like I ought to be able to figure out my own 
feelings,” I says. 

“ You wouldn’t be in the minority if you couldn’t,” Ruby 
says, rising onto her feet. “ But we mustn’t stay here any 
longer. Come on, let’s rescue the prisoner! ” 

So we slid down off the sawdust pile and went around to 
the front of the jail and I unlocked the door with the key 
Ruby give me, and looked in. 


THE RESCUE PARTY 


181 


It was plumb dark inside — a feller couldn’t see his 
hand behind his back hardly. And the floor, seems like, 
was made out of a small section of the perarie. 

Then all of a sudden somebody inside hollers, “ Who 
comes there? ” and I says, “ It’s me! ” and the voice says, 
“ Well, advance you, and give the countersign! ” so I 
knowed ’twas Allingham talking. 

“ Why’n’t you come out when you got a chance? ” I 
asked. 

So he uttered a noath and says: 

“Because that mud-colored sheriff has hogtied me! ” 

Well, I was afeared Ruby would hear him talkin’ to his- 
self, so I went in and cut the ropes off’n him and he 
cussed and stomped till he got his circulation goin’ agin. 
And then, as we were immerging, I explained how Ruby 
had give me the key to the jail and was waiting for us 
outside. 

“ You have made me your eternal debtor, Miss Thomas! ” 
says Allingham grateful. 

“ That’s all right,” replies Ruby offhanded, “ long as 
you don’t get in a similar relation towards Pop — he might 
collect the bill more vigorous than I intend to. ... I 
thought maybe you might be getting bored in jail. It 
often happens, they tell me, specially in an old-fashioned 
jail like this one, without modern improvements such as 
tea dancings and moving pictures of an evening and a night 
off each week to visit the folks.” 

So Allingham laughed. 

“ What’s the matter with the local prison reform club? ” 

“ There isn’t any,” Ruby says; “ the jail isn’t patronized 
enough. Most of the cases in Alma are hoss-thieves and 
cattle-rustlers and they don’t get the privilege of being 
boarded at the town’s expense. They’re usually marked 
£ Fragile ’ and bumped off before they reach jail.” 


i 82 


LEM ALLEN 


We’d got nigh the hotel by now, so we said good-night to 
Ruby and went up to our room and set down to figure out 
where we stood. It wa’n’t so hard. 

“ We got a long chance on the mine,” I says, “ but that 
don’t buy nothing now. Otherwise we’re just about where 
we was yesterday morning — far as money goes.” 

So Allingham looked right serious. 

“ Well,” he says finally, “ if the Lord tempers the wind 
to the shorn lamb, as some claim, we ought to run into 
a patch of right nice weather before long.” 

But I was feeling peart, though I dunno why, so I says: 

“ Far as I’m conserned it don’t make no grate difference 
to me how hard the wind blows, I reckon I kin make out 
to stand it.” 

Then I seen Allingham looking at me right funny. 

“ Long’s it don’t blow too hard,” I says. 


Chapter XXI 


AN INTERRUPTED RAFFLE 


W HEN I come awake in the morning I noticed that 
Allingham was still sleeping contented — though 
he hadn’t any real right to feel contented, for a 
fact. But that’s a funny thing about sleep: it don’t hold 
enny grudges agin nobody. Sometimes I figure it don’t get 
due credit for the fact, and then I remember that a feller 
can’t realize how well off he is when he’s sleeping and that’s 
likely why he don’t favor the condition more. I wouldn’t 
wonder if ’twas the same way about death, because most 
folks would ruther be conscious of being miserable than 
unconscious of being at peace. Seems like humans is right 
conceited thataway. 

At first I thought I’d wake Allingham so he could feel 
downhearted too, but then the idee came to me that he 
might not see the situation as discouraging as I did and 
I wouldn’t git no satisfaction. And another thing, I was 
afeared he’d want to go out directly he got dressed and 
then there’d be the danger he would git arrested all over 
again — or worse. I knowed he wouldn’t listen to no 
dictates of prudens and stay in his room, so then I begun to 
wish there was some way I could git him to act cautious 
like I figured was best — jest the way I’d wanted to git 
Stub Whitson to quit drinking. 

The only difference was that in the present case a notion 
come to me how I could git a holt on Allingham and in¬ 
fluence him for his own good. So what I done was to 

183 


LEM ALLEN 


184 

take Allingham’s clothes with me when I’d got dressed 
and was ready to leave, because I knowed he wouldn’t git 
far from the room as he was undraped at the moment, and 
I figured I could slip out and see how the land lay and 
be back before he felt the need of exercize. But I didn’t 
use good judgment, as it turnt out — though how was I to 
know that? 

On the way to the saloon I hid Allingham’s clothes 
downstairs in the hall and told Ruby what I’d done, be¬ 
cause I run into her. Then I went over to get the news, 
only they wa’n’t none. All I seen was a yearlin’ hog 
tied up to the saloon porch and all I heard was Humferry 
Daggett talkin’ loud to Brad acrost the bar. 

Humferry had a bunch of paper tickets in his hand, 
waving them eloquent in the air, and Brad was lissening 
like he wasn’t overly interested. 

“ Here’s Mr. Allen,” Brad says when he seen me, “ he had 
a pocket full of money yesterday. Mebbe he’ll buy some of 
them raffle tickets of yourn! ” 

Humferry looked at me kind of doubtful. 

“ He ain’t got a right wealthy look this mornm’,” he 
says; “I don’t hardly believe he’d take a chance.” 

“ A chance on what? ” I asked. 

“ On a yearlin’ hog.” 

“ What would I do with a hog? ” I says, laughing scorn¬ 
ful, because I was broke and couldn’t buy no tickets. 

“ Well,” says Humferry, “ they’s a good many tickets, 
so it’s likely you wouldn’t get him and then there wouldn’t 
be no probullum what to do with him at all.” 

I was thinkin’ up a sharp answer for Humferry, but just 
then we heard a turr’ble outbreakin’ of noise from the 
porch. It sounded like the voices of a dog and a yearlin’ 
hog bein’ mixed up rapid with one them wire egg-beaters, 


AN INTERRUPTED RAFFLE 


185 

and when we got to the scene we noticed that the idee 
wasn’t so far wrong, because that bulldog the stranger 
feller owned was goin’ for Humferry’s hog right fierce, 
while the stranger feller hisself was standing beside the 
tablow watching interested. 

Just as we come out the hog give a jump and broke the 
string which was holding him back and started up the road 
with the bulldog follering. And in about a minute both on 
’em had disappeared behind a mile or so of distance. 

“ Well,” says Brad, “ that there hog is shore a powerful 
critter for his age. I never knowed nothing on four legs 
could run so fast and screech so loud to once.” 

The stranger feller was laughing hearty, but Humferry 
didn’t say nothing for a spell, just watched the place where 
the hog had been. 

Then finally he says: “ I reckon we’d best settle up for 
the damages, mister! ” 

So the stranger feller looked surprised. 

“ It hasn’t done your hog any harm that I can see! ” 

But Humferry shook his head solemn, like he wasn’t 
noways convinsed of that. 

“ It certainly ain’t done him no good,” he come back. 
“ An’ another thing, I got to increase the number of chances 
in the raffle now. Every lep that critter takes means more 
tickets. If his wind don’t give out afore he hits the hills 
they’ll be about one chance in a thousand of the winner 
gittin’ him and the affare will be broke up on account of 
prohib’tive odds.” 

So then the stranger feller taken us into the bar and 
bought a round while the argument was being decided. 

“ I don’t want you to feel I’m trying to cheat you out 
of your just dues,” the feller says to Humferry after we 
was seated at one of the saloon tables; “ if you think the 


i86 


LEM ALLEN 


animal’s really injured, just put a reasonable price on him 
and we’ll settle the matter amicably! ” 

“ I’d best get in conferens with the hog first,” Hum- 
ferry says, “ and then mebbe we kin fix on something that 
will suit the three of us. Because this hog was a plumb 
sens’tif varmint and his sufferings must of been intense — 
him bein’ choused out’n town thataway with half Alma 
lookin’ on! ... He ain’t a ordinary hog by no means — 
he’s got a right interesting history attached to him! ” 

When Humferry says this Brad looked at him suspicious. 

“ If you’re fixing to start out on one of them long-winded 
yarns of yourn,” he says, “ I’m goin’ over to breakfast. And 
since Stub Whitson is sick abed today on account of a 
recent overdose of licker, perhaps Mr. Allen will mind bar 
till I get back. As a favor! ” 

“ Shore! ” I says. “ And thank you kindly. I appreciate 
the favor.” 

So I ordered a drink on the house, because a bartender 
gits more trade in the long run by treating his customers 
every once in so often. 

Then after Humferry had drunk his drink he begun 
glansing at the rafters absent-minded and clearing his 
throat like he was going to talk. 

So the stranger feller says brisk: 

“ At the risk of offending you, Mr. Daggett, I must warn 
you that I can’t give you but a few minutes at this time. 
I’ve got to make a trip to Mogollon — as soon as Mr. 
Thomas gets me a guide! ” 

“ Why,” says Humferry surprised, “ didn’t Brad tell you 
— I’m the feller he picked out! ” 

Well, for a minute the stranger looked right took aback. 
Then he riz up and says: 


AN INTERRUPTED RAFFLE 


187 

“ If that’s the case we won’t have to waste any more 
time here. We can settle about the hog later. Let’s go! ” 

But Humferry didn’t move, just sat looking reflectful at 
the bottle I’d left on the table. 

“ I can’t hardly go just yet, I’m afeared,” he says; “ my 
hoss ain’t digested his breakfast, I don’t reckon. Nor 
I ain’t scursely up to the p’int myself. We’d best wait a 
drink or two.” 

So the stranger give a sigh and sat down again and 
ordered up and Humferry begun clearing his throat sud- 
gestive. But before he could get started on whatever ’twas 
he was fixing to reeveal, we heard a whoopin’ and a yellin’ 
from down the road and when we looked out we seen the 
Alma fellers ridin’ back with the sheriff setting up in front 
and a rope tied around his arms and shoulders. 

Brad come running over from the hotel and they boosted 
the sheriff down off his hoss and drug him in the saloon 
and everbody begun to talk at once about what they’d 
best do with him. 

“ We kotched him outside the town limits,” Sim Wood 
says, “ so they wasn’t no violence did in Alma. Since we 
been back in town nobody’s raised a hand agin him, nor 
he ain’t made no hostile moves hisself.” 

“ Did you all git your money? ” Brad asked. 

Sim was going to answer him but that’s all the further 
he got, because the sheriff busted out and begun cussing 
Alma and everything in it right clever. Some of the cuss 
words he used was new and well chose and I wish I could 
of remembered them, but they come too fast. 

Well, Brad got right riled, seemed like. 

“ You said enough,” he come out savage, when the 
sheriff was winded. “ I’ve been anxious to protect you 
from injury so far, not because I got any special interest 


i88 


LEM ALLEN 


in that lump of dobey clay you insult the human coun¬ 
tenance by callin’ a face, but because being a servant of 
the county you represent a lot of better men than what you 
be. But now I’m agin you, and it’s come to a p’int where 
I’m willin’ to try out whose got the most influence over to 
Socorro — you or me! ” 

The fellers all set up a cheerin’ at this and some of them 
was for stringin’ the sheriff up without no more words 
wasted, and the sheriff got plumb quiet. But when Brad 
saw they was gettin’ their ropes off their saddles he stopped 
them. 

“ What about the money? ” he asked. “ That’s a lot 
more important than this varmint’s life.” 

“ He only had about half the money on him,” Sim says. 

“ That chile -picker which came out from Silver City with 
this minin’ man must have had the balance — but he got 
away.” 

“ Did you find the option contracts that was stole from 
Allingham? ” I asked. 

“ No,” says Sim, “ I reckon the other fellow had them 
too. But his tracks were heading towards Mogollon when 
we lost them, so I wouldn’t wonder if he’d be snoopin’ 
round here again before long so we can make a clean-up.” 

“ Well,” Brad says, “ the first thing is to dispose of this 
here sheriff pest. You’d best throw him in jail for the time 
being, till I can figure out the affare judicial.” 

“ Won’t him and that pool gambler git into some devil¬ 
ment? ” Sim asks doubtful. 

“ No,” I says, “ because Allingham’s broke jail.” 

“ That’s good,” Brad put in quick, before nobody could 
make any objections; “ it saves us the trouble of leaving 
him loose. As long as the sheriff’s a pris’ner he’s got no 
jurisdiction and Allingham’s won his liberty by default.” 


AN INTERRUPTED RAFFLE 


189 

So nobody said anything against Brad’s jedgment only 
the sheriff, and he didn’t count no longer. And I begun to 
feel right pleased the way things were working out, and 
went over to tell Allingham he was free, while the Almians 
were putting the sheriff in jail. 

I’d mighty nigh forgotten about taking Allingham’s 
clothes, being so apsorbed in the news I had to tell him, 
but when I seen him setting on the edge of the bed wropped 
up in one of them loon’tic quilts made of patches of dif¬ 
ferent colored cloths, I remembered about the clothes. And 
I was kind of sorry I’d stayed so long over to the saloon. 

Allingham didn’t say nothing when I come in, just sat 
there looking at me plumb snaky. His face was right cold 
and his eyes was norrowed down till it looked like he was 
peeking through a couple of chinks in his forehead. 

“ Well,” I says, “ I been over to the saloon.” 

Then they was a brief pause. 

“ In your ramblings you didn’t happen to run across 
an orphan suit of clothes, did you? ” Allingham asked 
sarcastic. 

Well, I started to tell him what made me take his clothes, 
but he broke in on me. 

“ Don’t try to explain! If there’s anything I hate worse 
than an underhanded action it’s a poor excuse! ” 

“ I got a good one,” I says patient, “ I was trying to 
save you from yourself, as the feller says. It was the only 
way I could think of to keep you from going out and get¬ 
ting jailed again.” 

“ So you decided to think! ” he says sneerin’. 

Well, I couldn’t immagin’ what had come over Allingham. 
He seemed plumb unnatural. I never knowed him to get 
serious before about bein’ irr’tated; but I could see from the 


1 9 o LEM ALLEN 

way he was acting that things had got beyond a joke. So I 
just says: 

“ I ain’t never laid claim to be no mental giant, but I kin 
take a licking as lighthearted as the next man, if it comes 
to that.” 

“ Good! ” says Allingnam, throwing off his quilt, “ I’ll 
just let you prove your boast.” 

So then we begun to quar’l. 

When I said I could take a licking I wasn’t meaning that 
I expected to. As I’ve already mentioned, I’m right tough 
and hard to stop when I git going, and Allingham is more 
slenderer and don’t look like he could stand a grate deal of 
handling. And I wouldn’t of believed I’d git the worst of it 
— like I done. But fights ain’t fit with looks — at 
least this one wasn’t — and it taken only a short spell before 
I was convinsed I’d best save up what features I had left 
for the next time. 

So I said I was satisfied and Allingham got off’n my ribs, 
where he was setting at the moment, and then I wiped the 
stanes of combat, as they call it, off’n my face. All of which 
would come off by wiping, that is. And then I took my 
eggsit from the room without no more words said. 

I was easing myself out of the front door when Ruby 
come through the best room and handed me a letter that 
had been sent on from Vegas where I had wrote them to 
forward my mail to Alma. 

“ Here’s a missive from that girl of yours, I reckon,” she 
says; “ the handwriting looks real loving.” 

Then she noticed my face and let out a lite screech like 
women does when they’re surprised. 

“ What have you been doing to yourself? ” she asks. 

“ Nothing,” I says, “ it’s a little thing Allingham com¬ 
posed. We had an out over my taking his clothes.” 


AN INTERRUPTED RAFFLE 191 

So Ruby wouldn’t have it but that I should let her put 
cold water and arnicky onto my face. Seems like gals is 
plumb fond of puttering round over somebody who’s hurted 
thataway. Nor I wasn’t so sot agin it this once, neither. 

u afraid I’m to blame for this trouble,” she says 
when I told her how the fight had come about. “ After 
you’d gone this morning I went up to Allingham’s room 
and asked him through the door if he wanted any break¬ 
fast, and he was so fresh I offered to lend him a Mother 
Hubbard so he could walk out and take the air. Then it 
came to me all of a sudden how funny the whole thing was, 
and I began to laugh. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he 
was angry.” 

“ No,” I says, “ nor either would I. But I’m glad you 
got a laugh out’n the affare — I ain’t found it overly droll 
myself.” 

So then I rubbed the arnicky out of my eyes and went 
over to the saloon to get something stren’thening, because 
I felt kind of puny. 

Humferry and the stranger feller were still there, getting 
started on their trip to the mine, and some of the Almians 
were setting around talking about the pleasure they’d had 
putting the sheriff in jail and getting enough money to buy 
drinks with again. 

So I didn’t say nothing only ordered a drink and give 
Brad the outlines of what had happened between me and 
Allingham, to explain why he couldn’t reckernize me first 
off. But I hadn’t hardly got started on the yarn when 
we heard a stomping on the porch and directly Miz Daggett 
busted in, holding Humferry’s hog in one hand and the 
stranger feller’s bulldog in the other. And all of ’em 
talkin’ to once in their own languages. 


192 


LEM ALLEN 


Humferry’s eyes bugged out when he seen them, and he 
turned right pale and inched over behind the stove. 

“ Well,” says Miz Daggett, glansing at him plumb vicious, 
“ what you got to say for yourself, you little lizzard, you? ” 

“ I ain’t talkin’ none for publication,” says Humferry, 
and flang a glanse at the window behind him; “but I’d 
ought to have a equal right to our livestock, if they’s sech 
a thing as law in Alma.” 

Then Miz Daggett made a step or two in his direction and 
Humferry dived out’n the window right agyle and ran 
around in front where his hoss was and waited thar, all 
set to go. 

Miz Daggett looked around the room hostile and give the 
bulldog a shake. 

“ And who claims this varmint? ” she says. 

“ It’s mine,” says the stranger feller right plucky. “ I 
was under the impression that the hog belonged to Mr. 
Daggett, and he and I have been conferring on the amount 
of damages owing. But since it appears to be your property, 
ma’am, I can only ask you to forgive me and let me shoot 
the dog and pay you what you think proper recompense for 
your distress of mind.” 

Well, Miz Daggett smiled at the feller right pleasant and 
tossed him the dog keerless. 

“ I wouldn’t hurt him none,” she says, “ he’s had a 
right hard day. He chowsed this ornery hog of mine nigh 
half way home. I met them on the way in, looking for the 
hog. As for damages, I reckon a dollar would be about 
right, if you could spare it. I wouldn’t ask that only the 
ins’dent was right hard on a guest of mine stayin’ at the 
ranch, who was fixin’ to come in to Alma with me this 
mornm’ and now she’s got to ride in alone —a Miss 
Hallock — ” 


AN INTERRUPTED RAFFLE 


193 

“ Miss Hallock! ” busts in the feller eager, “ Miss Hal- 
lock’s been staying with you? ” 

“ Shore,” says Miz Daggett, “ for a couple of nights now. 
She figured I could give her more protection than she’d be 
li’ble to find here in Alma. . . . Come to think of it, she 
was expectin’ to meet a friend here — mebbe you’re him? ” 
“ Yes, yes,” the feller says, “ but she was to reach here 
tomorrow — in a car — ” 

“ I dunno nothin’ about that,” says Miz Daggett, “ but 
she’s on the road now and she’ll be in before a grate while. 
You kin get the rights of the affare from her, more’n 
likely. . . . And about them damages — ! ” 

Well, the stranger give Miz Daggett a dollar quick and 
rushed out’n the saloon and him and Humferry rode off up 
the road. And Miz Daggett moved to the bar and says: 

“ I’ll trouble you for a drop of licker, Mr. Thomas! ” 
Then I started over to tell Allingham about Miss Hallock 
being found, but I remembered that him and me was on the 
outs, so I sat down and read the letter Ruby had give me, 
instead. 


Chapter XXII 


ALLINGHAM’S DEBUT 

I WAS glad the letter from my gal had come, because 
I wasn’t feelin’ right high-sperrited at the moment and 
I needed something to brace me up like. Brad’s licker 
had kind of petered out on me, but I thought, here, this 
letter will do the trick if anything will. So I sat down 
by myself in a cornder and prepared to enjoy things and 
opened up the envelope and this is what I read: 

Dear Mr. Allen: 

I can’t call you Lem no longer because I just got 
ingaged to another feller. He works in the livery stable 
here in Tulsa. He ain’t so amiable as you was the last 
time I seen you and told you the wedding would have 
to be put off indefinite, but he’s a reliable money maker, 
which is more important in the long run. So can you 
blame me? 

Yours lately, 

Liza. 

Well, you can jedge how I felt — or mebbe you can’t, 
because ’twas right unusual of a sensation. Here me and 
this gal had wrote I dunno how many letters during the last 
three years, with the object mattermony, and now the 
affare was all broke off in one short epistel. It seemed 
right shiftless, for a fact. 

I hadn’t hardly got things shifted round in my mind so 
they set comfortable, when Ruby put her head in the 
saloon door and beckoned to me and I went out to see 


194 


ALLINGHAM’S DEBUT 


195 


what she wanted. I thought some of telling her about the 
news in my letter, but then I thought No, she’s been a good 
friend to me, so far, and I wouldn’t want she should suffer 
none over my pers’nal disappointments. So I just asked her 
what all was up. 

“ Your late friend Allingham is anxious to see you,” she 
says; “ he’s waiting over in the hotel parlor.” 

So with that she run back and I walked behind more slow, 
thinking. I was thinking that I was broke and out of work 
and had lost a partner and my best gal to once and didn’t 
have no encouraging prospects to fall back onto. And I 
begun to wonder if they was more trouble waiting for me 
in the hotel, because I was coming round to the notion that 
this was li’ble to be a unlucky day for me. 

When I entered the best room I looked round and seen 
somebody settin’ by the window, and I says, “ Excuse me, 
ma’am! ” because I thought it was a stranger woman. Then 
when she uttered a noath I looked closer and seen it was 
only Allingham, dressed up in a gingham dress and looking 
right redic’lous. 

I would have laughed only me and Allingham was on the 
outs, so I stood looking towards him and waiting for him 
to say something. Nor Allingham didn’t laugh neither. 
He just sat glansing at me out’n one eye, the other being 
closed up where I’d reached him once in the argyment we’d 
had. 

Then presently he says: 

“Lem, you’ve got a true friend in that girl Ruby! ” 

“ I kin do with a friend, I reckon,” I says short, be¬ 
cause I wasn’t sure yet whether Allingham was still on the 
prod or not. 

“ She’s just favored me with a few salient remarks con¬ 
cerning a recent outbreak of mine,” he went on, “ and in 


LEM ALLEN 


196 

consequence I’ve come to the conclusion that I owe you an 
apology. I was in the wrong.” 

Well, I was glad to hear him own up so frank, but still 
my face was hurting right constant and my feelings also, 
and I figured they wasn’t no use makin’ up too quick — till 
I’d had relief anyhow. So I says: 

“ As far as what you done goes, it ain’t the first time I 
been whipped, by no means. Nor I ain’t one to hold a 
grudge agin nobody because they got the best of me; it’s 
been one of my experiences that hating a feller is a plumb 
wearing an’ wasteful pastime and they ain’t nothing to it. 
Also as for what you said, words ain’t never raised no 
bumps that I’ve heard tell of. . . . But what you thought 
was different. You thought I was ornery and low-down 
enough to steal your clothes just for to make a fool out’n 
you, when I was only trying to keep you from getting into 
trouble. And I can’t go on being partners with nobody who 
thinks I’m that particular kind of a knothead — because 
I ain’t.” 

With that Allingham helt out his hand and says: 

“ Spoken like a gentleman, Lem! Let’s make it up! ” 

“ No,” I says, “ I ain’t no gentleman, and you know it. 
Nor I ain’t right certain I’d want to be one neither. Be¬ 
cause most of the gentlemen I’ve met up with are just 
fellers with money enough to hide their mental poverty and 
suffishen polish to cover their nachral lack of good manners. 
They’s a sayin’ that clothes don’t make a man, but it’s my 
experience they make the best part of a gentleman. Be¬ 
cause a feller owns a gold watch don’t mean his heart’s made 
of the same metal, and if his eppidermus is kep’ fragrant 
it don’t follow his soul’s got the same enticin’ odor. Why, 
I’ve run acrost more’n one settler in this Western country 
that never had a bath in his life — ’less’n it rained or he 


ALLINGHAM’S DEBUT 


197 


slipped on a log and fell in the crick — and yet who had 
more gentle thoughts and feelin’s than the major’ty of these 
here fashion-plated fellers who’d ruther miss their pass 
to heaven than their mornin’s tub. . . . No, I don’t claim 
to be no gentleman — but I aim to be a man, and to git 
treated like one! ” 

I was gettin’ right het up; yet I found talkin’ loud and 
fast sort of eased me. Then whilst I was busy catching 
up with my breath Allingham give a right nice smile and 
says: 

“ I hope you’ve got it all out of your system, Lem, be¬ 
cause if you don’t shake hands now and tell me the whole 
sad episode is forgotten I’m going to step out and take you 
to a cleaning you’ll remember all your days! ” 

So he put out his hand again and I figured mebbe I was 
taking the affare too serious, so I shaken his hand a time or 
two and says: 

“ Well, we’ll put it down to profits and loss.” Then I 
says: “How come you to be dressed up foolish thataway? 
Didn’t Ruby show you where your clothes was? ” 

“I’m doing penance,” he says solemn; “Ruby and I 
agreed I’d get my clothes when I made it up with you.” 

So I seen why he was arguring so strong. 

Then I was just going to tell him the news about the 
stranger gal being located and everything, when I seen 
him staring out of the window plumb surprised. And when 
I looked up the road I seen Miss Hallock and the stranger 
feller riding along in the direction of the Daggett claim 
with Humferry trailin’. So I told Allingham what Miz 
Daggett had said about the gal stayin’ with her. But I 
didn’t know how come she’d got back to the claim after 
we’d seen her leaving that night, without us knowing any¬ 
thing about it. 


LEM ALLEN 


198 

Allingham didn’t pay much attention to what I was say¬ 
ing, because about then the party we was watching come to 
the forks where the Mogollon road branches off east and the 
stranger feller stood a moment talking and then leaned 
over and give the gal a right affecshunate kiss and then 
him and Humferry rid off toward the hills and Miss Hal- 
lock cantered up to the hotel. Then she got down from 
her hoss and we seen where Ruby had run out to meet her 
at the entrance gate. 

Allingham seemed in a daze like, which was why he didn’t 
make no move toward safety, I reckon, whilst he had the 
chance. And before I happened to remember that the only 
door to the room we was in faced on the hall where the 
vis’tor was heading towards, we heard footsteps coming 
up the hall. 

“ What shall I do? ” asked Allingham, plumb nervious. 

So I couldn’t help but laugh, because here he’d been 
chasing that gal over half the southwestern portion of the 
country and now when at last he had a chance to come in 
contack with her he was tryin’ his best to sidestep the 
meeting. But I didn’t hardly blame him; he wasn’t dressed 
so’s to make a hit at no coming-out party, for a fact. 

So I just says: 

“ Well, you might set down and arrange your skirts 
tasty and be talkin’ about hairpins or somethin’ when they 
come in. Then after I’ve stayed a minute or so for polite¬ 
ness I’ll just get up and leave you have a good gossip with 
the other gals.” 

I believe Allingham would have made a pass at me, he 
was that riled; but just then somebody knocked light on the 
best room door. And about the same time Allingham seen 
a closet on one side of the room and jumped in quick and 


ALLINGHAM’S DEBUT 199 

closed the door easy behind him a second before Ruby and 
the stranger gal entered. 

“ This is Mr. Lem Allen! ” Ruby says when they seen 
me, and Miss Hallock smiled and says: “Why, we’re old 
friends, aren’t we, Mr. Allen? ” and put out her hand. 

So I shaken it a time or two and says: “ Yes, ma’am.” 

Then I says: “ Please be seated, Miss Hallock! ” and 
pushed up a chair for her to set in. And as luck would have 
it, the chair come to rest a foot or so inbefront of the closet 
where Allingham had seeked sanktum, as they call it. 

I noticed that Ruby was looking round the room inquir¬ 
in’ like she wondered why the gatherin’ was incompleted, 
but she didn’t say nothing. Nor either did I — just waited. 

“ Well, Mr. Allen,” says Miss Hallock after a brief pause, 
“ it’s nice to see you again. While I think of it, I want to 
thank you for not saying , 1 Isn’t the world a small place! ’ ” 

“ I’m aware it ain’t,” I says, “ because once I studied a 
geography book. . . . But it’s funny we should meet-up 
like this in Alma. The laws of chances was all agin it. 
And the nature of the locality.” 

“ Hush! ” put in Ruby. “ Don’t begin running down 
Alma. It isn’t such a backward place as all that — you can 
start for most anywhere from here! ” 

Then Miss Hallock laughed, sort of, and smiled some at 
Ruby, and Ruby smiled back. It’s curious how two women 
can get acquainted enough to be on smiling terms so quick. 
But mebbe they don’t really get acquainted, but only pre¬ 
tend to — I dunno. 

I was fixing to put Ruby right on her statement about 
getting away from Alma easy, because if it hadn’t of took 
money to travel Allingham and me would likely have been 
somewheres else by now. But then I happened to rec’lect 
you mustn’t never talk about not having no money in 


200 


LEM ALLEN 


comp’ny. You got to let on you’re rich long as you're 
in the best room, so nobody’s feelings is tore by being 
sorry for a feller. 

So I made alterations in the subject and says: 

“ We was looking for you in Alma that night you left 
Miz Daggett’s, Miss Hallock. An’ we scoured the country 
for your hoss’s hoof-prints next day. We couldn’t figure 
what had happened — ’twas like a mist’ry.” 

Then Miss Hallock laughed and says: 

r ‘ I’m sorry you were put to any trouble. But what 
happened was simple enough. I wanted to see more of 
Mrs. Daggett — after that first glimpse — so I waited down 
the road a while till you and your friends had ridden past, 
then returned to the cabin. I thought at first I’d ride in 
next day, but Mrs. Daggett wouldn’t hear of it. So, as 
I was a little ahead of my schedule and knew that I’d have 
to wait a few days anyway till my mining friend arrived, 
I stayed on. . . . I’m sure, by the way, I’ll never regret 
the experience.” 

Well, nobody said nothing for a minute after that and 
they was a brief silence, and then into the middle of the 
silence there come a sound from the closet where Allingham 
was hid. It sounded like somebody was sneezin’ with their 
head under a couple of feet of water. Muffelt, I mean. 

“ Why, what’s that? ” says Miss Hallock, looking around 
quick. 

“ It’s just a rat, I reckon! ” I says. 

“ I never heard a rat sneeze before,” Miss Hallock says 
suspicious. 

“ No, ma’am,” I says, “ nor either did I, but on the 
other hand I never heard them denied the accomplishment. 
There’s a lot about them little animals we ain’t learned yet.” 

So Miss Hallock looked kind of funny, but she didn’t 


ALLINGHAM’S DEBUT 201 

say no more about the noise. Then after a minute she 
asked: 

“ How is your novel coming on, Mr. Allen? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ it ain’t been brought plumb up to date. 
A good many things has happened recent that I ain’t had 
the heart to put down yet. I’m waitin’ awhile first, because 
they’s a lot of ins’dents a feller don’t enjoy dwellin’ on at 
the time they breaks, but which he likes to remember later 
on, when he gets used to their being safe behind.” 

With that Miss Hallock laughed and asked me: 

“ And what’s become of your friend — Halligan, was that 
his name? ” 

“ Allingham,” Ruby broke in. “ It’s a good thing his 
wife didn’t hear you — I expect she’s right proud of her 
title! ” 

When Ruby says this Miss Hallock’s eyebrows sort of 
lifted up surprised. 

“ Oh — is he married? ” 

Well, I was shore hacked. I didn’t know what to say 
hardly, because the gals was both looking at me and I 
ain’t right handy lying to women under them circumstances. 

So I just says diplomatic: 

“ I heard him claim as much — though I never seen his 
wife myself.” 

“ They may be living separate,” Ruby sudgested; “ I 
wouldn’t blame the poor soul — this Allingham doesn’t 
look like a man who’d be easy to get along with.” 

So nobody said nothing and they was a brief pause and 
I begun to get right fidgetty. I dunno why ’tis, but often 
when some of the people in a crowd are thinking about 
something the others don’t know nothing about, seems like 
the air gets plumb full of uneasiness. And just as this idee 
struck me in the present instance, there come another 


202 


LEM ALLEN 


sneeze from the closet, only this time it was loud and clear 
like it scorned disguising. 

Miss Hallock jumped up and started to remark about 
it, but about then the closet door swang open and 
Allingham and his dresses crawled out right red in the face 
and trying to look dignified, which they didn’t by no means. 

Well, sir, my throat began to tickle me till I had to 
cough once or twice, and when I looked at Ruby she was 
laughing plumb uncontrollable. But Miss Hallock 
squenched a smile and glansed at Allingham right hard. 

I figured mebbe she wanted to say something to Alling¬ 
ham and couldn’t because she hadn’t never been made 
acquainted with him. So I says: 

“ This here’s Mr. Allingham, Miss Hallock! My part¬ 
ner— which I’ve told you about occasional.” 

“ And what do you mean, Mr. Allingham,” she says 
cold, “ by this untimely intrusion? ” 

“ Yes,” Ruby breaks in, “ it’s a very peculiar way for a 
married husband to be acting, if you should ask me. ... I 
believe your wife should be told! ” 

“ Damn my wife! ” says Allingham earnest, and with 
that he walked out’n the room tripping over his skirts as 
he went. And I thought them gals would choke theirselves 
to death laughing. 

So I excused myself from the room and got Allingham’s 
clothes out of the hall closet where I’d put them, and went 
up to our room where I found him cussin’ to hisself con- 
vinsing and throwing Ruby’s things around regardless. It 
was funny though, he ca’amed down a lot quicker than he 
had when I hid his clothes, though I’d have thought he’d 
of felt worse now than then. 

Finally he began to laugh at hisself, which showed he 
was natural again. 


ALLINGHAM’S DEBUT 203 

“ I reckon I was right odd-looking — coming out of that 
closet like a Jack-in-the-box! ” 

“ Odd ain’t exactly the right word,” I says, “ and Jack’s 
a feller’s name, ain’t it? ... So we got to liminate that 
too, because you was scursely a fine figure of a man at 
the moment.” 

But I don’t believe Allingham heard me. 

He had a sort of simple, faraway look on his face like 
he was thinking of happy days. 

“ Miss Hallock is even more attractive than I imagined,” 
he says dreemy-like. “ To think I’ve met her at last! ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ but to think how you met her! ” 

Well, he didn’t even get riled at that, which shows the 
condition he was in. 

“ My debut wasn’t staged in the most happy vein, it’s 
true — but I couldn’t go that closet a minute longer. I 
could hear my heart beating against the front and back at 
one and the same time. And whichever one of Brad’s 
daughters has the job of dusting those shelves is a slacker. 
It got so finally I had to either sneeze or stop breathing. So 
I snoze.” 

“ I heard you — and so did Miss Hallock. I wouldn’t 
wonder if she was right put out — the way you scared her.” 

“ Nonsense, it just aroused her interest. . . . Wait till 
I get my proper attire on and a chance to talk and I’ll soon 
make up the ground I’ve lost.” 

“ Well,” I says, “ if I ain’t mistook you’ll have to show 
some speed to cut out that stranger feller. Today’s the 
second time we’ve seen him kissing of her, ain’t it? ” 

So that kind of got to Allingham. 

“ You should follow the realistic school of writing,” he 
says short, “ you’re so fond of gloating over the more 
horrible details of existence.” 

So I didn’t say no more then, because I could see Alling¬ 
ham was irr’tated. 


Chapter XXIII 


A SOUND OF REVELRY 


W HEN Humferry and the stranger feller set out for 
Mogollon they had expected to get back the 
same day, because the claim wasn’t more’n 
twelve or fifteen miles distant from Alma. But they was 
gone overnight; and next morning a telephone message 
come saying they’d been detained and would be in that day. 
And as this was the day Ruby had fixed on for her dance 
she was right pleased that Miss Hallock and her friend 
would be on hand to enjoy the entertainment. 

Allingham and me learnt of these events at breakfast, 
when Ruby spoke up cheerful and says: 

“ I suppose you men have been impatiently waiting for 
the baile I promised you! But you won’t be kept in sus¬ 
pense any longer — tonight’s the night!” 

I must have looked right discouraged, because Ruby 
glansed at me funny and asked: 

“ You know how to dance, don’t you? ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ but I ain’t parshul to the pastime. I 
kin rec’lect yet the time I first learnt; ’twas back in 
Oklahoma and how it come about was the local desp’rado 
got lit up one night and begun pumping a curtain of fire, 
as they call it, around the bottom of my lims: and right 
there was when I found out I could dance. But I didn’t 
enjoy it at the time nor I ain’t ever fell in love with the habit 
since.” 


204 


A SOUND OF REVELRY 


205 


'* Well/’ Ruby says firm, “ you’ve got to sacrifice your 
feelings tonight on the altar of Terpsichore, which if you’re 
not acquainted with her is the muse of the dance! ” 

“ That’s another thing besides her name I’ve got agin 
her then,” I says, and Miss Hallock laughed. So then 
Allingham laughed too, and Ruby knowed from me making 
a joke I’d give in and was just trying to distract attention 
from the fact. 

Well, Allingham begun talking to Miss Hallock after 
that, because it seems she didn’t hold it agin him none 
that he’d give her a chance to laugh at him the day before, 
and so she was right pleasant-spoke and told Allingham 
about her friend the stranger feller not getting back and 
how she was waiting for him and all. And Allingham 
tried for to find out what was the relation between them 
two, without actually coming out and asking her, but she 
didn’t give him no satisfaction on that head. 

Then Ruby says: 

“ We’ve got to arrange for music the first thing. I 
suppose we’ll have to fall back on Humferry Daggett and 
his fiddle, as usual. I wish you two men would sort of 
keep an eye on him when he gets in from Mogollon — at 
least till the dance begins. We can’t hardly get along 
without him.” 

Well, we agreed to that and then made the rest of the 
plans and finally got to work, because dancing wasn’t all we 
was scheduled for, by no means. 

We spent mighty nigh the whole day fixing up the 
schoolhouse for the dance. First off we had to take all the 
furniture out. Then we had to whittle taller candles all 
over the floor and stomp on the taller and shuffle it around 
with our feet till the boards was right slick. And we put 
pinon limbs and scrub oak leaves on the walls for decora- 


206 LEM ALLEN 

tions, and hung up a lot of coal oil lamps for luminative 
purposes. 

Along about the middle of the forenoon a feller rode in 
to town, and who should it be but Dingbat Jones, the 
trapper, on his other hoss. He’d come after the animal 
he’d lent me, he claimed, and old Hosford Hippie’s roan, 
which Allingham had hired. We were right glad to see 
Dingbat, because it took the responsibility of feedin’ the 
hosses off’n our hands; and if we ever got in a position to 
leave Alma we knowed we could hire other mounts. So we 
told Dingbat about the dance and he let on he’d take it in, 
and got down off his hoss and holp us with his advice. 

Then later in the day Humferry showed up. He 
wouldn’t say nothing much about the outcome of the mine 
inspection, just hinted that the stranger feller, who’d gone 
over to the hotel to talk with Miss Hallock, had some 
information to pass us when he got a chance to talk with 
us private. But when Humferry learnt that Ruby wanted 
him to play the fiddle at the dance he got right important 
and wouldn’t do no work hardly at all, but stood around 
bossin’ the job because he claimed he couldn’t run no 
risk of cripplin’ his musician’s hands. 

The only time he stopped bragging on his playing was 
when Miz Daggett rode in, late in the afternoon. And 
when we seen old Hosford Hippie’s daughter Loosy ridin’ 
along with her we was plumb surprised, nor we couldn’t 
immagine what brung Loosy clean down from Springerville, 
unless it was the roan hoss Dingbat had said he was after. 
We would have asked, only they didn’t stop at the school- 
house but went on over to the hotel, which was gittin’ full 
of folks, because all afternoon fellers and gals had been 
drifting in from Mogollon and Glenwood and Meader’s 
Crossin’ and the ranches for thirty or forty mile around, 


A SOUND OF REVELRY 


207 

till Alma looked plumb unnatural. You couldn’t walk 
mor’n a hundred yards, hardly, without seeing somebody. 

Both saloons did a rushing business in drinks and seegars 
and the gen’ral store sold more black evenin’ shirts and 
neck handkerchiefs and cattridges and them lilac-colored 
elastics with rosettes on them which the sports wear to 
hold up their shirt sleeves, than it had done since we come. 
And Dingbat, being broke, let on he was a barber and 
made nigh onto four dollars cash money by disfiguring 
the trustin’ countenances of fellers who believed him. 

Finally the grate moment come, as you might say, and 
found all the fellers hangin’ round the door of the school- 
house, which was lit up also. Humferry stood on the 
platform at one end of the hall, tuning up his fiddle and 
plastering his bow with rossin and his insides with Brad’s 
private stock, which had been loaned him free for the 
occasion. And he was shore lookin’ hotty and untrampled. 

Presently the gals come over from the hotel in a crowd, 
and Miz Daggett follered in another crowd by herself. 
They was most of them gigglin’ and making keerless talk 
like they wasn’t aware somebody was waiting for them. 
But when the grand march struck up they begun to notice 
the fellers, which come out’n their trance sudden and 
choosed partners, and then we all lined up and Humferry 
specktorated on his hands and clamped down on his fiddle 
with his chin and waved his bow graceful and then they 
began what the pote calls a sound of deviltry by night. 

Allingham had tried to git Miss Hallock for a partner, 
but the stranger feller beat him out of the chance, so he 
danced with Brad’s eldest daughter Opal — I reckon be¬ 
cause she was looking downhearted also. And I was so 
busy watching him that one of the Alma fellers got to 
Ruby ahead of me, though I figured that as long as she’d 


208 


LEM ALLEN 


been the one to git me in the notion of dancing she ought 
to shoulder some of the responsibility. Then I run into old 
Hosford’s daughter Loosy and in the excitement I asked 
her would she dance and she didn’t make no objections, so 
we started in. 

For a spell I kept my mind on how Loosy told me to 
turn and all, so we didn’t talk much, but as soon as I 
thought of it I asked her how she happened to come to Alma. 

“ Was your Paw getting anxious about his hoss? ” I 
asked. 

“ No,” she says, “ I don’t reckon it bothered him a grate 
deal. He’s dead.” 

“ Well! ” I says surprised. 

11 Yes,” Loosy says, “ he had a suddent stroke. . . . 
And since he left consid’able property and me being a lone 
woman, I decided to look up Dingbat and git him sober 
and let him think he’s running the hotel. I may have 
to marry him, for looks’ sake, but life is full of com¬ 
promises! ” 

“Well! ” I says again. 

So we didn’t say no more then, just romped round a 
spell, and presently Dingbat bumped into us and asked 
Loosy to dance and she said she was agreeable. I reckon 
she wanted a chance to break the news to Dingbat about 
the change in his future plans. Nor I don’t immagine he 
was put out when she told him about it, neither, because 
old Hosford must have been right well fixed, and Loosy her¬ 
self couldn’t be called a plumb cripplin’ incumbrance on the 
property. 

It was three or four dances more before I could get to 
dance with Ruby, so in the meanwhile I hung around the 
edges and watched the dancing. It was a right stimulatin’ 
sight, for a fact. All the gals was dressed up neat and 


A SOUND OF REVELRY 


209 


wore smiles and a becoming flush of excitement beside 
their lingerings and such. And the fellers was excited 
too, most of them, because after they’d made two or three 
trips over to the saloon they begun to get an idee that 
some partic’ler gal was keering about them for theirselves 
alone, and not just because they didn’t step on her feet. 

Brad Thomas was happier than I’d ever seen him before. 
It was a grate night for him, he says, between sobs. Be¬ 
sides the extry profits at the saloon and gen’ral store and 
the new stock of money coming in to Alma from outside, 
two of his daughters, Pearl and Emrald, was ingaged 
before the evening was over, and another, Beryl, got into 
a understanding with a feller which kept her good-natured 
for three months or better. 

Allingham didn’t seem to be enjoying hisself, though, 
during the early part of the evening. But after he’d 
underwent a dance with Miz Daggett and no harm done he 
finally secured a waltz with Miss Hallock, and peartened 
up consid’able. And him and her begun by doing a lot 
of fancy steps, dipping and gliding and such; but when 
the rest began to stop dancing and gathered round to watch 
how it was did, they just plain waltzed agin. 

At len’th I got a dance with Ruby. 

“ Why have you been neglecting me all evening? ” she 
asked severe. 

“ Because I didn’t have no stepladder to climb over the 
heads of the fellers clustered around you with,” I says, 
and she looked right pleased. 

It’s funny, when a gal asks you some foolish question she 
already knows the answer to, they always like it if you tell 
them a lie and pretend you think it’s the truth. They’re 
right simple thataway. 


Chapter XXIV 


LOVE AND WAR 


W HEN me and Ruby started to dance we found 
the dance was a Lancers dance. Sim Wood got 
up beside Humferry and called out the figures 
whilst the dance was going on. Some of the things he 
called out he remembered, and some he made up. But you 
couldn’t tell the difference hardly. 

He begun by hollering out for the first figure like this: 


Take your partner and pat her on the head; 

If she don’t like roast beef give ’er corn bread. 

Then next time he says: 


Dance your cornder and dance it well; 

Swing your pardner and swing like — 

Sim didn’t say hell right out, because on account of the 
women bein’ there, but everybody knowed what he meant 
so they figured it was humorous. And Sim had a lot of 
other ones, too, though they wasn’t no sense to the most 
of them. They was just made up to match the dancing. 

After the dance we were right hot, so Ruby and me had 
some lemonade. Then I says: 

“ I wouldn’t wonder if ’twas cooler outside. Supposing 
we take a stroll and git some fresh air! ” 

“ Is that what all these fellers who’ve been strolling 
out every few minutes have been getting? ” asked Ruby. 


210 


LOVE AND WAR 


2 11 


“ I dunno,” I says, “ we might go and find out.” 

So Ruby didn’t make no objections, and we strolled up 
and down the road a spell. 

Then I says: 

“ If you got a few minutes to spare we might climb up 
on the sawdust pile and see if it looks the same as it did 
the other night.” 

Ruby laughed and says: 

“ I believe you’re crazy! ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ if a feller don’t act crazy once in a 
while he don’t get the full benefits of being sensible the 
rest of the time.” 

So we started for the sawdust pile. 

We found it was about the same as when we were there 
before, only the moon looked bigger and clearer. We 
could see the saloon lights shining sociable a hundred yards 
west, and north some distance was the schoolhouse and 
the dance going on. The jail, which was close by to the 
northeast, between us and the mesa, was right dark and 
gloomy compared with. And I begun to feel sorry for the 
sheriff, for all he had acted so ornery. It must be right 
solitary for him alone in jail thataway, I figured. 

Then all of a sudden I was glad me and Ruby was apart 
from the dance, out here where ’twas cool and there weren’t 
no people nor loud noises. 

“ It seems redicklus,” I says finally, “ all them folks 
wasting their time jumping round over yonder.” 

I says this because we could see their heads through the 
open windows, floating apast foolish-like. 

“ It may look ridiculous,” Ruby says, “ but it’s not, by 
any means. Nor those folks aren’t wasting their time, 
either. The main reason for the dance, which is to get 
a lot of men and girls that are miserable by themselves 
mixed up together, is being accomplished successfully.” 


212 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Well,” I says, “ you may be right. It’s funny though, 
I believe I’d ruther be out here with you than in the bunch 
yonder.” 

So Ruby kind of sniffed. 

“ I don’t see anything so singular in that — unless you 
mean you should have your fiancee here instead of me.” 

“ That there affare is broke off,” I says. 

So Ruby looked right surprised. 

“You don’t mean it! And who broke it off? ” 

“ I did,” I says; “ I didn’t make enough money for it to 
run along on. So the gal’s going to marry a good provider.” 

Well, Ruby didn’t say nothing for a spell, so I couldn’t 
make out whether she was sorry for me or not. She just 
sat with her head turned away, glansing at the mesa and 
the Mogollon mountains which you could see black against 
the eastern skyline like some jagged-toothed feller had 
taken a bite out’n the edge of the firm’ment. 

Then finally Ruby says: 

“ I suppose that’s why you’ve been drinking so constant 
the last day or two! ” 

“ No,” I says, “ ’twas partly because Brad give us credit 
and partly, I reckon, because I was kind of lonesome.” 

At that Ruby turned round and smiled friendly. 

“ I know what that feeling is — quite well. Especially 
since I came back from teaching school at Silver City last 
fall. Sometimes I get so lonesome I could bust out crying 
— only there’s nobody to cry to. . . . At least there hasn’t 
been to date. . . . Do you get lonesome often? ” 

“ All the time most — except when I’m in a jam. Be¬ 
cause seems ’s if a feller ain’t got no time to worrit about 
his feelings when he’s in trouble.” 

“ You ought to get married. Then you wouldn’t ever 
be lonesome.” 


LOVE AND WAR 


213 

“ Well/’ I says, “ I didn’t mean trouble was always pref¬ 
erable to lonesomeness. Only for a change like.” 

So Ruby looked at the mesa reflectful and they was a 
brief pause. 

Then I inched a mite closer to her and says: 

u But speakin’ of marriage — I’d sure like to get a 
chance to marry some gal like you, Ruby! ” 

“ Oh,” she says, “ that ought not to be so hard. I’m just 
an ordinary sort of girl.” 

“ Them’s the kind makes the best wives,” I says en¬ 
couraging, and with that Ruby set about a foot furtherer 
away and seemed right put out about something. 

I wondered if ’twas because I was springing the question 
on her too suddent. Then I remembered what Allingham 
had told me once when I asked him what was the best 
way to tell if a gal liked a feller or not. He claimed you 
should put your arm around the gal and give her a kiss 
and if she didn’t jab you with a hatpin or holler Murder 
it was a shore sign she favored your attentions. 

Well, Ruby didn’t have no hat on and there wasn’t no 
off’cers of the law nigh except the sheriff, who wasn’t 
dangerous, so I figured I wouldn’t be taking no grate 
chances trying Allingham’s system; but yet I didn’t some¬ 
how keer to make the attempt. So finally to be on the 
safe side I slid one arm around Ruby cautious, like I had 
to lean on it to keep from falling in the sawdust. 

She didn’t make no outcryin’, so I says: 

“ Ruby, if I could find a gal like what we was talking 
about, do you reckon I could git her to marry me? ” 

“ Not unless you asked her, I don’t imagine! ” says Ruby 
short. 

So then I drawed a deep breath and made the plunge. 

“Well, supposing you was that gal, Ruby — would you 
marry me?” 


214 


LEM ALLEN 


“ If I did,” says Ruby sharp, “ there’s one thing sure, 
I wouldn’t ever have to worry over your making any reck¬ 
less motions. A rain storm would never be so sudden or 
unexpected but what you’d have your umbrella and gum 
boots handy, I’ll gamble! ” 

“ I generally wear a slicker,” I says, “ it covers a feller 
more complete.” 

At that Ruby laughed helpless like she didn’t have no 
more argyments, so I knowed I’d won. And I was just 
going to seal the bargain, as they call it, when Ruby 
stopped me and says: 

“ There’s another thing’s got to be settled before we can 
call it a deal. I wouldn’t think of marrying you unless you 
quit drinking. Because in the first place I know too much 
about the composition of Pop’s licker, and in the second 
place I’m of a right jealous nature and don’t aim to have 
any rivals for your affections in the family circle.” 

“ I’ve done quit drinking from this minute, Ruby,” I 
says. “ When do you reckon we kin be married? ” 

“ Don’t ask so many questions,” she says, “ it’s my turn. 
Tell me, am I the first girl you never really understood? ” 

I was going to tell her No, because I never understood 
none of them, when they get talking; but just then I seen 
something right spooky-looking, moving out on the mesa, 
and before I could catch myself I give a startle and Ruby’s 
head slipped off my shoulder and she mighty nigh fell over 
backwards. 

“Well! ” she says irr’table, “the next time I get en¬ 
gaged I’ll sure pick out a feller can support the girl of his 
choice better than you — what made you jump that way? ” 

“ They’s somebody coming! ” 

“ Supposing there is? If they see us they’ll probably 
get over the shock before a great while. And if the worst 


LOVE AND WAR 


215 

comes to the worst we’ll say we’re thinking of getting 
married; that makes everything right except poverty and 
poor clothes! ” 

“ Shish! ” I says nervious. “That ain’t nobody from 
the dance, it’s strangers! They don’t look like they was 
up to no good, neither.” 

Then I pointed out where sev’el fellers were crawling in 
off the mesa toward the jail’s if they didn’t want nobody to 
see them. 

“Lie down flat! ” says Ruby hasty, pulling me down 
on the sawdust pile. Then she whispers: “ It’s a bunch 
of Mexicans come to get the sheriff out of jail. But I 
didn’t expect them till later.” 

“ What! ” I says surprised. “ Are they friends of yours? ” 

“ Of course not! . . . Pop learned about their plans 
from one of his coffee-hued amigos, and since this jail¬ 
breaking was planned for the night of my dance he let me 
stage-manage the defense.” 

So I was right disappointed. 

“ Why,” I says, “ if I’d knowed about it we could have 
been waiting here for them bandits and got every last one 
of ’em before they realized what was up! ” 

“ Yes, and leave us women out of it, I suppose! . . . I’ve 
got things fixed better than that. I told Stub Whitson 
about it, so he could be a hero and get a chance at Opal 
— who he’s soft on. He’s to ride out with some of the 
boys and come in on the outlaws’ rear when the action 
starts. In the meantime there’s a bunch at the saloon 
and several at the dance hiding their guns under their 
coats. As soon as they hear the alarm they’ll join forces 
and take the Mexicans from this side.” 

“ And who’s to give the alarm? ” 

At that Ruby frowned reflectful. 


216 


LEM ALLEN 


“ I was. But I didn’t expect them so soon. It looks 
like they had the jump on us.” 

With that she peeked over the edge of the sawdust pile 
a minute and then drawed back and turned around to me. 

“ They’re close to the jail now and in a few minutes 
they’ll have the sheriff. But by that time you’ve got to 
have slid down on the off side of this pile and reached 
the saloon and started back with the boys there on a high 
lope. Then we’ll see! ” 

“ How about your coming too? ” I asked doubtful, be¬ 
cause I didn’t like the idee of Ruby staying there alone 
thataway. 

“ Don’t talk foolish,” she says, pulling a Colt’s out’n 
her clothes. “ I wouldn’t miss any part of this jam for a 
fortune! And if you don’t move along quick on your 
errand you can put wedding bells clean out of your head. 
The one particular thing I demand in any husband of 
mine is instant and unquestioning obedience! ” 

Well, I seen it wasn’t no use arguring no longer, 
so I slipped off the south side of the sawdust pile and 
legged it over to the saloon about as fast as the Lord 
would let me. 

I hadn’t hardly reached it when I heard a shot or two in 
the direction where I’d left Ruby, and I was sure scairt 
because I figured some of them Mexicans must have found 
her there. So I stopped short and run back faster’n I’d 
come. And about the same time the saloon door swang 
open and a bunch of fellers come bustin’ out hell bent for 
trouble and follered where they heard me hollering. 

I reckon they must of heard the shots up at the dance 
hall too, because a shouting begun there and another bunch 
broke out from the hall and started running towards the 
scene of action with a large white figure that looked like 


LOVE AND WAR 


217 


Miz Daggett in the front ranks, holding onto her skirts 
with one hand and swinging a chair round her head with 
the other and her voice rising plumb triumphant above all 
the rest of the clammer. And I thought to myself, God 
help them pore misguided Mexicans when she gits to them! 

I dunno whether ’twas Miz Daggett’s screechin’ or just 
gen’ral prudence made the Mexicans move, but when I 
and the fellers from the saloon reached the sawdust pile 
we couldn’t see no bandits at all. I was looking for Ruby 
more particular, though, and just then I seen her where 
I’d left here on top of the pile, jumping up and down 
excited and waving her gun towards the hotel. 

“Yonder they go!” she hollers. “They’ve got the 
sheriff out and they’re after their hosses. They must have 
left them in the corral back of the house.” 

So everybody started off again in the direction where she 
was pointing, only me, and I waited till she got down from 
the sawdust pile so we could run along together. 

“ I was afeared you was hurted when I heard them 
shots,” I says. 

“ Sho! ” says Ruby. “ ’Twas just that they worked 
quicker than I expected, so I shot off my gun to hurry our 
fellers up. I wonder where Stub is — it’ll be a pity if he 
misses it! ” 

But Stub didn’t miss nothing. By the time we got 
nigh the hotel we heard hosses galloping in from all sides 
and fellers yelling and emptying their guns at the Mexicans. 
The Mexicans was replying earnest and trying to get on 
their hosses and they was right smart of a jam for a spell. 

Ruby give me her gun and a handful of cattridges, but 
us fellers on foot kept away from the center of the melee 
because they was so many fellers shooting and all. Only 
Miz Daggett, when she seen two or three of the Mexicans 


2l8 


LEM ALLEN 


about to get mounted, lost control of her prudens and run 
in and knocked a hoss on the head with her chair so that 
he fell down unconscious, and then snatched the Mexican 
off his back and swang him round her head and dropped 
the other Mexicans out’n their saddles like they was apples 
on a lim. 

“ I declare,” says Brad admiringly, “ if I had about ten 
like that there woman I’d go down and get myself elected 
President of Mexico. There wouldn’t be nothing to it.” 

Finally the fellers on hossback, which Stub was handling, 
closed in, and the remaining Mexicans was rounded up and 
hogtied; and the affare was history. Nor they weren’t 
any casualities at all, only four or five of the Mexicans kilt 
and sev’el of the Alma fellers had slight wounds. And 
Miz Daggett was plumb out of breath. 

But she come round in time, though she couldn’t talk 
above a whisper for a week or so. And she was right 
amiable with Humferry for about the same len’th of time. 
So he says. 

Well, when things got quieted down everybody begun 
talking about the fight and what they’d done and how 
heroic Stub had been, and Opal jumped out at the psychic 
moment and flang her arms around his neck and Brad 
didn’t make no objections, only looked the other way. 

And then Humferry come running up and told how he’d 
been guarding the jail agin another surprise attack, and the 
stranger feller and Miss Hallock says how thrillin’ it had 
all been, and Allingham let on he was right riled nobody’d 
told him before so’s he could of had his guns with him and 
been a hero too, and Ruby looked plumb proud on account 
of her arranging the affare and in short we had a right 
enjoyable evening for the balance of the night. Before we 
started up the dance again we throwed the sheriff and the 


LOVE AND WAR 


219 


rest of the live Mexicans in jail till it had been decided 
what to do with them permanent. The dead ones we put 
to one side. 

And the only unlucky part of it, when we got to thinking 
it over, was that that Mexican lawyer Sena, which had 
took our mine options, didn’t show up among the kilt 
or captured. But they wasn’t nothing we could do about 
it but be sorry. Mebbe it was fate — I dunno. 


Chapter XXV 


KNOTS BEGIN TO LOOSEN 

HE stranger feller had passed us the word on the 
night of the dance that he wanted to talk to Alling- 



ham and me, so next morning we went over to the 
saloon and waited for him to show up, because he was 
sleeping late. In the meanwhile I figured I’d tell Ailing- 
ham the news about Ruby and me. 

So I says: 

“ Me and Ruby is thinking of getting married.” 

Well, Allingham looked plumb took aback. 

“ What happened to your girl in Oklahoma — is she 


dead? ” 


“ She’s dead to me,” I says, “ henceforth.” Then I told 
him about the letter I’d got, and what it said. And he 
shaken my hand cordial. 

“ Ruby’s a fine girl, Lem! My heartiest congratula¬ 
tions! . . . Shall we drink to her health? ” 

So we lined up at the bar and I took sody. And Alling¬ 
ham looked at me right funny. 

“ What’s wrong? ” he asked curious. 

“ I’ve done quit drinking,” I told him. 

“ What for? ” 

“It ain’t good for my health,” I told him; “besides, 
I promised it to Ruby.” 

At that Allingham laughed right immod’rate, and I 
asked him what was so humorous about being sensible. 


220 


KNOTS BEGIN TO LOOSEN 


221 


“ The motivation,” he says brisk. “ Man is weak and 
wobbly and needs a crutch when he tries to stand on his 
hind feet. With some it’s religion, with some money, with 
some their figure. But most often it’s a woman. . . . You 
always knew drinking didn’t do you any good, yet you 
wait till a girl drives you to wise resolution. . . . Here, 
I’ll just give you an object lesson on the difference between 
expediency and principle: I’ll quit too — not because of 
ulterior motive but because my self-respect demands it. 
Give me soda, Brad! ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I hope your self-respect keeps arter 
you as reg’lar as I got a idee Ruby will me! ” 

So then we drinked the soda. It tasted right puny. 

Then I says: 

“ Now that I’m aimin’ to get married I got to give some 
considerations to the future. Brad only agreed to give us 
credit till after the dance. I got to step out and get me 
a job so I kin be self and wife supporting.” 

“ Wait till we have our talk with this friend of Miss 
Hallock’s,” says Allingham; “ it may not be necessary for 
us to be wage slaves yet awhile.” 

So I couldn’t think of no good objections to that plan 
and we waited a spell and finally the stranger feller come 
over and we all sat down to a table sociable. 

“ Now,” says the feller, “ before we start talking busi¬ 
ness, I don’t believe we’ve gone through the formality of 
exchanging names as yet. . . . Mine’s Hallock — Harkness 
Hallock.” 

Well, when I come to think of it, there hadn”t been no 
occasion so far for the young feller to let on what he was 
called; but I hadn’t figured it was Hallock, by no means. 
Nor Allingham hadn’t either, I don’t reckon, because his 
eyes begun to open up sparklin’ and his features crinkled 
in a smile like a pore man’s lease, from year to year. 


222 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Hallock? ” he says jubilient. “ Then you must be a 
relative of Miss Hallock’s — ? ” 

“ Her brother,” says the feller, kind of smiling. 

So Allingham shaken hands with him right cordial. 

“ I got to have a drink,” he says intense. “ Brad, take 
the orders! ” 

So Brad come over and this Harkness Hallock taken a 
drink and I took sody and Allingham ordered two sodas, 
when I reminded him of his self-respect. But he didn’t 
swaller more’n half of the second bottle. 

“ I want to talk to you chaps about the Golden Nuggett,” 
says Hallock when the honors was done. 

“ Did you find ore there? ” asked Allingham hopeful. 

“ Well,” says Hallock, “ I didn’t have much of a chance. 
Because when I reached the claim I ran into a six-foot 
barbed wire fence stretched around the property, and 
guarded by an armed Mexican patrolling up and down 
inside. And when I hailed him that lawyer Sena who came 
down with me strolled out of a log cabin near the shaft 
and came over to inform me visitors weren’t welcome.” 

“That’s the feller got the option contracts! ” I said. 

“ The same. But what’s more important — he’s got the 
mine: at least physical possession of it.” 

“ I wonder what his game is? ” Allingham put in. 

“ He wouldn’t say, though you may believe I asked 
him. . . . But I’ll tell you what I think.” 

“ Yes? ” 

Hallock studied a minute, then says: 

“ I told you the other night that I was acting on my 
own. But there was something I didn’t tell you. I’ve been 
informed that the Seven States Amalgamated are buying 
in the locality of the Golden Nuggett, to extend their gold- 
bearing properties at Mogollon. You know the company? ” 


KNOTS BEGIN TO LOOSEN 


223 

“ Shore,” I says, “ it’s the trust. They own the major’ty 
of paying claims in this Southwestern country.” 

u I’d heard rumors of their activity,” Allingham says 
casual, “ but I wasn’t certain the Golden Nuggett was in 
the block they’re after.” 

The stranger glansed at Allingham surprised. 

“ I didn’t know it was a rumor — I thought it was a 
secret: the Seven States operations, I mean. . . . How¬ 
ever, I think I can add to your information, because I’ve 
established the fact to my own satisfaction that the Golden 
Nuggett is in the line of the main vein — it’s something 
of a key location. They’ll have to have it to complete 
their plans, I’m convinced.” 

“ Well? ” Allingham asked businesslike. 

“ Well, my idea was to get possession of the claim and 
hold it for a good stiff price from the Seven States.” 

“ That’s my idea still,” says Allingham short. 

Hallock sort of smiled. 

“ But Sena’s on the ground? ” 

“ An awkward obstacle, but not an insurmountable one. 
Have you any plan to suggest? ” 

So Hallock thunk a minute, frowning. 

“ My idea is that Sena’s playing a lone hand — that he 
has an inkling of the situation and hopes to hold the claim 
till he can make some sort of dicker with the trust. I 
think that’s why he and his crowd tried to get the sheriff 
out of jail — so he could pretend to be acting under color 
of law — ” 

“ Where does Andrew Jackson come in? ” I asked. “ The 
claim’s still his legally, ain’t it? ” 

Hallock shook his head doubtful. 

“ A standing in court can be established on a mere 
pretense of legality. If the Seven States get even a bogus 


224 


LEM ALLEN 


title through Sena — who can claim anything — Andrew 
wouldn’t have much of a chance against the trust lawyers 
at Socorro. . . . But here’s what I suggest: I understand 
some of the general officers of the Seven States are due at 
Silver City soon, my plan is to go to Silver and get in 
touch with the company’s local representative, a lawyer 
named Harvey. I can get to him through letters I have, 
and make him a proposition, threatening action if we don’t 
get a square deal. He might hesitate to negotiate with 
Sena if he knows it’s not Andrew but ourselves he’ll have 
to fight for title to the Golden Nuggett.” 

Allingham was looking right thoughtful. 

“ Have you heard who’s coming out for the Seven 
States? ” 

“ There’s Caleb T. Wright, the President, and Watson, 
the general manager, and a bunch of experts.” 

Then Allingham nodded satisfied-like. 

“ That’s all right. . . . But how do you know Sena 
hasn’t already made his dicker? That he isn’t working 
at this minute for the Seven States? ” 

At that Hallock throwed up his hands. 

“ Of course it’s possible. But if it’s the fact we might 
as well quit right now. If they’ve gone that far they’ll go 
the limit! ” 

Well, Allingham smiled right cold-blooded. 

“ There’s no reason why we can’t do the same, is there? 
. . . As for quitting, we haven’t got started yet. Now 
listen — I had a talk with Harvey over the phone yesterday 
and he as much as told me to keep my hands off; so I 
concluded Sena was a mere agent for the company. He 
probably made the deal when you came through Silver. 
That being the case, I thought we’d better clear up the 
matter of the title as soon as possible.” 


KNOTS BEGIN TO LOOSEN 


22 $ 

He taken a telegram from his pocket and laid it on the 
table. 

“ When I saw how things were breaking I wired John 
Arnold at the Bar T ranch to buy the mine from Andrew, on 
the strength of the options we had. . . . Read his reply! ” 

So Hallock and me glansed at the telegram right inter¬ 
ested, and this is what it says: 

“ Have purchased Golden Nuggett in your name papers 
follow by mail good luck.” 

“Well! ” says Hallock, mopping at his forrid with his 
handkerchief. “ You didn’t lose any time, did you? . . . 
But it looks as if you had things pretty well ribbed up 
without any help from me. This seems to let me out.” 

With that he made as if to rise, but Allingham repressed 
him and says: 

“ On the contrary, with Mr. Allen’s consent I want you 
to throw in with us. As for what you can do, cast your 
eye over this! ” He drawed a letter from his coat and 
handed it to Hallock. “ That’s a note I’ve taken the liberty 
of addressing to Mr. Caleb T. Wright, president of the 
Seven States, in which I offer him the Golden Nuggett 
mine free of incumbrances for the sum of one hundred 
thousand dollars. What I’d like you to do is go to Silver 
and watch for the inspection party and hand this to Mr. 
Wright when he steps off the train. I think I can promise 
that we’ll hear from him thereafter without delay. ... In 
the meantime as long as Sena and his crowd hold the mine 
there’s a danger that we may get dished. We’ve got to 
get him out.” 

Well, we looked at each another puzzled, and Hallock 
says: 

“ I don’t see how you’re going to do it.” 


226 


LEM ALLEN 


“It’s a problem,” admitted Allingham; “ we need men 
and ammunition and — ” 

“ What you need most in this crisis,” says Brad, coming 
from behind where he’d been standing listening, “ is advice. 
Why’n’t you just invite me into this here conference? A 
hundred thousand would go a long ways in Alma if spread 
round judicious! ” 

We all stared at Brad for a minute, him breaking in un¬ 
expected that way, but he didn’t seem upsot none. He 
just smiled back at us as if he was one of the fambly. 

Then he says: 

“ Besides, you’ll need a small extension of credit, I 
wouldn’t wonder, to git through the next few days while 
your fortune hangs into the balance like. ’Twould be right 
pitiful if you fellers should get hunger struck and die 
before you got your hands onto the cash! ” 

Allingham was looking at him hard. 

“ I believe you’re right, Brad! ” he come out then. “ You 
could get a posse and make suitable financial promises to 
its members and we could ride over and run that bunch of 
half-breeds off our property pronto! ” 

“ Sure,” says Brad, “ why not? ... I wouldn’t want but 
ten per cent of what you git out’n the mine to pay me for 
my trouble and settle with the boys.” 

Well, it seemed like a right good plan of Brad’s, so after 
talking over the details it ended in us agreeing on the main 
features and taking a drink to seal the bargain like. And 
Allingham and me had sody — though it gagged us, for a 
fact. It’s right odd how soon a feller finds his limit when 
he ain’t drinkin’ p’izen, but only somethin’ that’s good for 
his system. 

Then the stranger feller, which was now our pardner, let 
on he’d best be moving, because a car had come out that 


KNOTS BEGIN TO LOOSEN 


227 

morning to take him and his sister in to Silver. So we all 
went over to the hotel to see them off. 

Allingham tried to get in a word alone with Miss Hallock 
before she left, but he couldn’t arrange it. He had to say 
good-bye with the rest of us at the car side. 

At the last minute he shaken her by the hand and says: 

“ Before you go, Miss Hallock, I must tell you there’s 
an unknown female who’s been cruelly slandered for the 
past few days — I’ve never been married in my life! ” 

So Miss Hallock laughed and says: 

“I hope you won’t continue unfortunate! ” 

Allingham was starting to say some more, but just then 
the driver started up and they moved off, waving their 
hands right cordial. And for sev’el minutes Allingham 
didn’t seem to reckernize his surroundings. 

Finally he says: 

“ Isn’t that Hallock a great chap? I don’t know when 
I’ve taken a fancy to anyone so quick! ” 

“ His name’s in his favor,” I says, but Allingham didn’t 
pay no attention, just looked down the road where the dust 
from the automobile was still floating round in the air. 

So I says: 

“ What for did you want to send a letter to that Caleb T. 
Wright for? He wouldn’t know you from a loon.” 

“ On the contrary,” says Allingham, “ he would.” 

“ How come? ” 

Allingham looked at me pensif for a spell, and then says: 

“ I reckon the time’s come when I’d better tell you 
that this Caleb T. Wright, besides being president of the 
Seven States Amalgamated, has the added distinction of 
being a father of mine.” 

“ What? ” I says surprised. “ Why, they say he’s a 
millionaire! ” 


228 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Well,” says Allingham short, “ they say I’m a million¬ 
aire’s son, and I’ve never had any good reason to doubt it. 
At least I was brought up foolish enough to make the 
supposition credible.” 

When he says that it give me a turn, for a fact. I 
could see he was meaning what he said, but yet I couldn’t 
get used to the idee at all. Because Allingham is right like 
an ordinary feller — when he ain’t talking, that is. 

So I says: 

“ Well, I ain’t no hand to call a friend a liar without 
good reason; but yet it don’t seem nach’ral for no sensible 
feller to leave all them millions lonesome thataway and 
come out here in the West and begin livin’ so dangerous 
we don’t hardly know in advance the spot we’re going to 
starve to death at.” 

“ I’ve never claimed to be sensible,” says Allingham. 
“ And as for those millions, don’t waste your sympathy on 
them. They’re busy and contented and not lonely at all, 
I’ll wager! ” 

But I was still wondering. 

“ Did you get drove out’n your house and home? ” I 
asked, and Allingham laughed. 

“ Only by ennui: I got sick and tired of being supported 
in the style to which I’d become accustomed without doing 
anything in particular to deserve it. Also it was a bore 
trying to live up to my income, which never interested me 
anyhow except in the process of distributing it. So after 
the war, when a few real things happened to me, I picked 
out an alias and started West to enjoy life by making my 
own way for a change.” 

“ Well,” I says, “you’ve done that — almost. . . . But 
you ain’t going to get proud and refuse that hundred 
thousand dollars for the Golden Nuggett, are you? If we 
git it? ” 

“ No,” says Allingham short, “ by no means.” 


Chapter XXVI 


THE CLAIM JUMPERS 

B RAD was as good as his word about arranging for a 
posse and all, so we could drive out Sena and his 
compadres from the Golden Nuggett claim and take 
charge there ourselfs. As soon as the sale contract come 
down from Vegas with a letter from Mr. Arnold telling 
how he had give Andrew the money for the mine and how 
Andrew was fixing to buy a ranch and enough licker for 
him and oats for Sadie for the balance of their lives, Brad 
got the Alma fellers together at the saloon and explained 
the situation to them. 

“ These two,” he says, pointing out Allingham and me, 
“ have title to the property, but that Mexican Sena has 
jumped the claim and we got to jump it back again. I’ve 
put a couple of the pris’ners from the jail through the 
third degree by refusin’ ’em cigareets till they told what 
they knowed, and they admitted it was a scheme of Sena’s 
gettin’ the sheriff out so they could take him over with them 
and make their occupation of the mine look more legal. 
They was disappointed in that, as you all know, so now 
Sena is holdin’ on with a bunch of chile-e aters he picked up 
in Mogollon, till he can turn the mine over to the Seven 
States company. So what we’ve got to do is to run him 
and his crowd out and put these righteous owners in posses¬ 
sion.” 

Well, the Almians looked at each another puzzled, be¬ 
cause they couldn’t yet figure where they come in to make 
anything out’n the deal. 


229 


230 


LEM ALLEN 


“ Of course,” Brad went on, “ there’ll be a slug of money 
pass hands when the mine is finally disposed of, and I 
wouldn’t wonder if consid’abie of it stayed here in the 
little town of Alma before all’s said and done. At the least, 

I kin guarantee that anybody which joins the posse volun¬ 
tary will have a pocket full of silver dollars when the smoke 
blows off. But them I’m forced to deputize to help uphold 
the law won’t get nothing only glory.” 

So then the Almians cheered and offered to join voluntary 
in a body, and Brad distributed rifles and ammunition and 
tin badges and swore everybody in as deppitys and so we 
started for the claim about noon. 

I shore hated to leave Ruby, after we’d just got ingaged 
and all, because I didn’t know in advance how the affare 
was going to turn out. When there’s shooting going on a 
feller’s always liable to get winged, no matter how keerful 
he acts. But Ruby was right encouraging. After she’d 
examined my 30-30 carbine to see if the action was working 
easy and the barrel clean, she give me a kiss and says: 

“ After all, they’re only Mexicans. And I can trust you 
to be prudent, can’t I? ” 

“ Yes,” I says, “ as usual.” 

I says that because it’s been one of my experiences that 
a feller which wears a welcome sign on his face when 
trouble starts is apt to git his features used for a doormat 
afore he’s through. And I ain’t never been one to act 
reckless just for the fun of it. 

Well, when we was ready Brad took charge, and he 
decided not to go through Mogollon for fear the news of 
our plans would leak out, so we took the lower road across 
Whitewater mesa and up into the hills by trail. It was a 
right tedious ride, and what made it worse was that Sim 


THE CLAIM JUMPERS 231 

Wood kept time to the hosses’ hoofs by singin’ a right sad 
song about a outlaw named Black Jack Davy. 

It started out thisaway: 

Black Jack Davy went a-singin’ down the road 
Singin’ his song so gay-hay-lee, 

Singin’ his song till the wild woods rang 
Singin’ his song to his lay-hay-dee. 

Singin’ his song to his lay-hay-dee. 

Then this is what Black Jack sung —part of it, that is: 

Would you dee-sert your happy ho-home, 

Would you dee-sert you bay-hay-bee, 

Would you dee-sert your husban’ dear 
All for Black Jack Day-hay-vee, 

All for Black Jack Day-hay-vee? 

The song was some longer than the sample I’ve give. 
About a hundred verses or better. And it told all about 
what this Black Jack done, and how the gal left her 
rel’tives including the infant mentioned and took up with 
the outlaw permanent. He must of been right fassinating 
of a feller. But not moral hardly at all. 

Well, finally the trail and the song come to an end to¬ 
gether. And then we begun riding cautious through the 
woods, climbing the slope of the main ridge so’s to get 
below the claim and come in on the Mexicans unbeknownst. 
We’d climbed a couple of thousand feet from the Alma level 
by now, and the woods was thick and cool, pine and fir 
mostly, with now and again a clump of aspen shining white 
where the sun struck them, or a long grassy draw along a 
stream. ’Twas right purty and soothing to look at, and I 
couldn’t help but think how tomorrow when some of us 
fellers might of bit the dust mebbe, ’twould be just as purty 


232 


LEM ALLEN 


and lighthearted-looking as ’twas now. The woods don’t lose 
no stren’th worriten over what happens to somebody else, 
and that’s a fact. 

We got close to the claim without nobody giving the 
alarm. So we gathered together behind a little knoll south 
of the location to figure out our plans. 

From where we was we could see the mine by peekin’ 
over the top of the knoll through the brush. ’Twas in a 
draw, cleared of trees, the tunnel dug horizontal in a hill 
opposite and a log cabin fifty feet or so from the mouth. 
Around the edges of the cleared ground was a barbed wire 
fence about six feet high, like Hallock had said. And 
inside was a Mexican walking around with a gun on his 
shoulder, while over by a camp-fire on the ground near the 
cabin were four or five other fellers loafing, with their 
rifles in easy reach. We couldn’t see Sena nowhere. 

Allingham was for going to the fence and calling on the 
bunch to surrender, but Brad wouldn’t have it that way. 

“ ’Twould be nothing more or less than suicide,” he 
says; “a couple of fellers in that cabin could pick us off 
like we was rats, while the light holds. But it won’t be a 
grate while till sundown, and then ’twill be a different 
story. We’d best wait till then and make a surprise attack, 
I reckon.” 

The Almians were all in favor of Brad’s sudgestion, so 
we sat down and waited while the shadows got longer and 
the dusk slipped in and a Mexican from around the camp¬ 
fire begun singin’ a plumb long-winded song in Spanish. 
It made Sim Wood right restless, because I reckon he 
would of like to have drownded the feller out by some more 
rev’lations about his friend Black Jack Davy. 

Finally sundown come and it got dark right sudden, and 
we all moved over the knoll cautious and crept up nigh 


THE CLAIM JUMPERS 233 

the fence. We figured mebbe in the darkness we could 
stretch the strands apart and crawl through, but they was 
strung too close and pulled too tight. Besides, the feller 
with the gun come by every little while, so presently we 
snook back to the knoll again. 

There was more Mexicans around the camp-fire now, 
watching the Dutch oven with bread baking and a pot of 
frijoles simmering on a bed of hot coals nearby, and a big 
coffee-pot steaming. ’Twas right cozy-looking and for a 
minute I felt sorry we had to disturb the bunch. But just 
then I saw Sena step out of the cabin with a rifle on his 
arm and walk over to the fire, and then I didn’t have no 
further quallums — on account of the underhanded way 
he’d acted. 

“ Now’s our chance,” Brad whispered when Sena ap¬ 
peared, “ the whole herd’s in the open. Then he drawed a 
pair of wire-cutters from his pocket and shoved them at me, 
because unfortunately I was nearest. “ Here,” he says, “ it’s 
a good thing I thought to bring these along; take ’em and 
crawl up to the fence when the guard gits apast, and cut 
the wire. Then stand up and give a right soft whistle and 
we’ll jump in after you and throw down on the Mexicans. 
And don’t nobody waste no time with them if they don’t 
act pretty — shoot! ” 

Well, I sort of hesitated a minute, because I ain’t had 
no grate amount of experience with using wire cutters, but 
the guard was just going apast and all the Almians begun 
saying, “ Go ahead, Lem! ” and then I happened to think of 
them hundred thousand dollars, so with that I dropped 
onto my knees and started crawling toward the fence. 

When I got close I begun cutting the barb’ wires as fast 
as I could, beginning with them nearest the ground. I got 
along all right till I come to the top, where I had to reach 


234 


LEM ALLEN 


up on my toes. And just then there come a lullin’ in the 
talk around the camp-fire and you could hear the snip of 
the wire-cutters plain as I cut through the last strands. 

The Mexicans jumped up and stood listening, and I was 
ascared to whistle for our fellers for fear the enemy’d hear. 
And whilst I was waiting for an idee, the guard come 
charging back hollering, “ Who’s there! ” And when he 
seen me he stopped askin’ questions and throwed down on 
me and I grabbed for my six-shooter and just then a rifle 
cracked behind me and the guard dropped. 

I jerked around quick and found Allingham right behind 
me. He must of follered, I reckon, without my knowing it. 

“ One down! ” he says cheerful, and with that he lep 
through the wires and headed for the fire, with me after 
him. And I heard a scramblin’ in the brush behind, and 
then a yellin’, and I figured our side was getting into the 
action. 

When the Mexicans around the fire seen Allingham and 
me bearing down on them and heard the noise the Almians 
was making in behind, they stuck their hands up and let 
on they was ready to surrender. And I thought to myself, 
this is plumb easy! But I was forgetting Sena, because 
before I knowed what he was up to he ripped out a string 
of Mexican cuss words and raised his gun and fired point- 
blank at Allingham as he hit the circle of firelight. Then 
he whirled and disappeared in the mine tunnel, while bullets 
spattered all around the opening. 

Allingham never made a sound, just threw up one hand 
and slumped down on the ground in a heap. I leaned 
over hasty and felt of his shirt in front and my hand come 
away red. For a minute I went numb, sort of. Then all 
of a sudden it come to me what Sena had done and I must 
of gone plumb out of my mind, because I jumped acrost 


THE CLAIM JUMPERS 235 

the fire and dived into the tunnel after the murd’rer with¬ 
out even waiting to figure whether it was sensible or not. 

I didn’t have no idee how far the shaft went, and ordi¬ 
narily I would have traveled slow; but now I stumbled 
forrard reckless, with no thoughts only to come up with 
Sena as soon as I could make it. It was me or him, I 
figured — nor I wasn’t keerin’ how quick the jam occurred. 

I couldn’t see ahead of me no more’n if I was blind, 
but I kept going into the tunnel till I come to where it 
made a sharp turn, and thar I run smack agin a rock wall. 
And at the same time a rifle cracked to my right and I 
felt the wind of the bullet past my head. 

I fired at the flash instinctive and turned and walked 
bent-over down the passage towards where the gun had 
sounded, emptying my Colt’s as I went. Then when the 
magazine was spent I grabbed her by the barrel, waiting 
for the next shot from Sena’s weapon. And it wasn’t till 
I tripped over something soft on the tunnel floor that I 
knowed I didn’t have to search no longer. 

I struck a match and found I’d caught the Mexican 
twice, once in the arm and once clean through the middle 
of the forehead. Then I straightened up and groped my 
way back towards outside. 

The other Mexicans were hogtied and harmless now, 
and the fight was done. When I asked where Allingham 
was they showed me where they’d carried him to the cabin 
and laid him on a bed there and washed and bandaged the 
wound the best way they could. And Brad says one of the 
boys had rode to Mogollon for a doctor. So I sat down 
by the bed and waited till the doctor come. 

The wound was in the chest, they said, and it was serious; 
because Allingham’s eyes was closed and his face was right 
white and you couldn’t hardly feel his pulse at all. And 


LEM ALLEN 


236 

when I begun to think of all we’d went through together 
and how cheerful and entertainin’ he’d been, even when 
pickings was slim and prospects pore, I declare, it plumb 
got to me to have to set there doing nothin’ only mope with 
him mebbe dying before my eyes. 

He hadn’t moved nor spoke when the doctor finally 
galloped in, ’long about midnight, and begun examining the 
wound. The doctor looked right grave when he got 
through, and I didn’t dare ask him what the chances was. 
But when he seen me hangin’ round he says: 

“ He’s alive — that’s about all. We’ll know more to¬ 
morrow if he holds out. I’ll stay on here till the turn comes 
one way or the other.” 

Then he druv me to bed, because he said I couldn’t do 
no good staying up any longer. But I didn’t sleep right 
sound. 


Chapter XXVII 


THE SMILES OF FORTUNE 

I T was the middle of afternoon, the day after he got 
drilled, before Allingham come alive. And then he 
was in a high fever, so that for a time it didn’t look 
like he had more’n a even chance to pull through. The 
Almians had gone home by then, and the doctor and me 
took turns watching Allingham, and I done the cooking. 

Things went on thisaway for a couple of days without no 
news from outside, and then one morning who should show 
up but Ruby, riding one of Brad’s hosses and bringing 
some home-made soups and such from the hotel. The 
fellers which took the pris’ners down to Alma had told her 
what all had happened, she said. 

I was right glad to see Ruby, and to hear she was still 
in the same notion about gettin’ married, because I’d begun 
to suspect gals of bein’ fickle since the experience I’d had. 
And now that we was in safe possession of the Golden 
Nuggett it looked as if ’twould be a pity if Ruby should 
miss out on sharin’ my part of the stake we expected to git. 
So when she said she had been faithful since I’d been gone 
I told her how sick Allingham was and how we was hopin’ 
to pull him through with good luck. 

I told her also about him claimin’ to be a son of Caleb 
T. Wright, president of the Seven States Amalgamated. 

“I’m not surprised,” she says; “it always struck me 
Allingham was too careless about handling money to have 
ever earned his own living.” 


237 


238 


LEM ALLEN 


“ It seems funny though/’ I says, “ that he’d leave a 
position where he could spend money that was earned for 
him.” 

So Ruby kind of smiled. 

“ That’s natural,” she says, “ if he got tired of the 
experience. Poverty probably meant adventure to him — 
which is the same as saying variety — which means a 
change. Most kids are that way — and Allingham’s a kid 
still, for all his years. He’s just looking for toys, so far. 
But he’s a right nice boy, nevertheless.” 

“ You know, Ruby,” I says then, “ when we first come 
I was afeared you was going to get ingaged to Allingham.” 

Well, Ruby opened her eyes wide and looked right in¬ 
dignant. 

“ To Allingham? ... I’d sooner climb into a nunnery. 
The worst I could ever get on a feller like that would be 
infatuated, in which case I’d stay in bed till I was cured. 
Why, it would take me ten years to train him to where 
he’d be bridle-wise and safe to handle. He’s broncho! . . . 
Besides, he’s over head and ears in love with Miss Hallock.” 

Then Ruby told me how Miss Hallock had called up a 
time or two from Silver to see if Allingham was going to 
get well, when she learned he’d been hurted. And she says 
Miss Hallock and her brother were going to stay on there 
till they saw what happened, and how we made out with 
the mine and all. Then Ruby went back to Alma, and 
I was shore sorry to see her go. 

Well, Allingham’s fever kept up a few more days and 
then one night the doctor says to me: 

“ The next twelve hours ought to tell the story. You 
can stay with him for a while now, but let me know if he 
gets any worse.” 

So I sat by the bed, while he kept muttering to hisself 


THE SMILES OF FORTUNE 239 

like he’d been doing constant for I dunno how long. He 
mentioned a lot of things and people I never heard of, 
calling the same names over and over till I was dizzy. 
Then he got right quiet for a spell, and I reckon I must 
have dozed off, because the first thing I knowed I heard 
him speaking my name. And his voice sounded right 
natural. 

“ Lem! ” he says plain, “ Lem! Where are we? ” 

I opened my eyes and seen him looking at me puzzled, 
his eyes sunk in his head and his hand sort of picking 
feeble at the comforter over him. 

“ Well,” I says, “ you shore give me a turn. How you 
feeling? ” 

He stared at me solemn a minute, then says slow: 

“I feel sleepy — awf’lly sleepy!” 

With that he closed his eyes and drawed a deep breath 
and begun to sleep right peaceful. And I rousted out the 
doctor, who run over and give one look at him and then 
turned and smiled at me cheerful. 

“ It’s the crisis,” he says. “ If he sleeps like that till 
morning I’ll give him a chance.” 

Well, he didn’t wake till next afternoon, and he was like 
a different man when he come to. And from then on he 
picked up by the minute, till it wasn’t a grate while till the 
doctor began to talk about taking him down to Alma. 

But before that time come we had visitors. 

I was setting by the bed about the middle of the after¬ 
noon, and Allingham was looking out through the cabin 
window at the trees swaying gentle and a patch of blue sky 
in between, when we heard a rumpus outside and directly 
a big raspy voice cornin’ towards us. And then a tall, 
heavy-set feller reachin’ on towards sixty or better come 
stoopin’ through the door, turned sideways so’s his shoulders 
wouldn’t lift the door jambs from off’n the sill. 


240 


LEM ALLEN 


He stood blinking a minute at Allingham from under 
scraggly grey eyebrows, his head bent forrard and a jaw 
like a hoss-block shoved out under his mustache. He 
looked right hostile. 

“ Well,” he says abrupt, “ what are you doin’ here in 
this God-forsaken hole? ” 

Allingham kind of smiled and let his eyelids droop down 
over his eyes like he does, and says pleasant: 

“ I’m convalescing, so the doctor assures me, though it’s 
a slow process. . . . But about this being a God-forsaken 
hole — I’m not so sure of that. I was under the impression 
that it was a rare and desirable and most valuable hole, for 
some purposes.” With that he broke off and waved his 
hand towards me. “ But let me introduce my partner 
and co-owner of the Golden Nuggett, Mr. Lem Allen — 
Mr. Caleb Wright, my father! ” 

The old fellow glanced at me sharp and give a grunt 
and I says, “ Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Mr. 
Wright! ” and then he set down and stared at Allingham 
interested. 

“ You look like the devil! ” he says. “ But that doctor 
tells me you’ll live. I’ve brought some men up with a 
stretcher to take you down to Alma, where I’ve left my 
car. You can drive in with me to Silver City and join 
me in a trip I’m making to the coast. After this experience 
I imagine you’ll be ready to quit your present tramp’s 
life and settle down to work.” 

“ I was never fond of work,” says Allingham reflectful, 
“ you know that. But I’ll be glad to get down to Alma 
and recuperate there for a while. Also there’s a little 
matter of business I’d like to close up before I leave the 
vicinity. As you may recall, I made an offer of this 
property to the Seven States Amalgamated, through their 


THE SMILES OF FORTUNE 241 

honorable president. The asking price, which I consider 

cheap in the circumstances, was a hundred thousand dol¬ 
lars.” 

Well, the old feller’s eyes got right red and for a minute 
I was afeared he was going to bust out and lose his 
temper. Then all of a sudden he give a smile and blowed 
in his handkerchief with his nose. And when he smiled 
he looked like somebody else, because he showed his teeth 
cheerful and confident like Allingham does. Then I hap¬ 
pened to notice his nose, which was the same build as 
Allingham’s only even more important-looking, and I 
knowed Allingham had valid proof right there of his rela¬ 
tionship with the old feller, because no two in the world 
could of had noses like them, except the two I was look¬ 
ing at. 

Finally this Caleb T. Wright says: 

“ I suppose I should be glad you’ve begun to live by 
highway robbery instead of charity — it’s a step upward. 
Maybe some day you’ll be able to earn money. . . . There’s 
a check deposited to your order at Silver City for the 
amount you mention. I was going to let someone else 
give you that news, however.” 

He rose and went to the door and waved his hand as he 
says this and who should come steppin’ in but Miss Hal- 
lock, smiling plumb pleasant, and behind her Harkness 
Hallock with a grin all over his face. 

“ Your friends were generous enough to share my exile,” 
said the old feller, laughing like he’d said something smart, 
" particularly when I assured them that they’d have better 
company on the way back, as my son was returning with 
us. . . . So see that you let yourself be persuaded! ” 

He was talking to Allingham, but Allingham wasn’t pay¬ 
ing no manner of attention. He was holding on to Miss 


242 LEM ALLEN 

Hallock’s hand and speaking soft and rapid like he was 
right glad to see her. 

Well, after a minute the old feller says to Hallock: 

“ I guess we’d better go out and stir up those Mexicans 
or we’ll never get back to town.” 

Then him and Hallock went out and on the way the 
old feller frowned at me like he was right riled about 
something, so I figured mebbe he imagined I was hired by 
the day and ought to be workin’. And ruther than spile 
the occasion by starting an argument I says: 

“ Well, I got some juniper wood to split.” 

So I went out too. 

But then just as I was going round by the back of the 
cabin to the woodpile I happened to think that Allingham 
and Miss Hallock was left there alone and mebbe they’d 
start an interesting conversation which I’d ought to have 
in my novel book. So for the benefits of liter’ture and 
my readers, if I should happen to git any, I decided to slip 
around under the window where I could hear what was 
going on without being caught and accused of eavesdropping 
or nothing. So that’s what I done. 

No sooner I’d got set to listen than I ree’lized 
Allingham hadn’t wasted no time, because he was right in 
the midst of asking Miss Hallock to marry him. Nor he 
didn’t spare words none — ’twas plumb eloquent, for a 
fact. But when he got done I didn’t hear no sounds of 
s’render, and I begun to wonder had something gone 
wrong with Allingham’s system. 

Then the gal says slow, like ’twas hard to get out: 

“ I’m sorry— so sorry. But you’re too late. There’s 
— somebody else. . . That’s one reason why I — I tried 
to avoid you, on this trip we’ve made. I liked you enough 
to try to avoid you. I didn’t even know you —yet I 


THE SMILES OF FORTUNE 


243 

liked you too much to try to flirt with you: that’s some¬ 
thing, isn’t it? ” 

She kind of laughed when she said this, a trembly sort 
of laugh like it wasn’t plumb sure ’twould last till it was 
executed. Then there was silens for a minute. And in 
the silens I could hear Allingham breathing, and I felt 
sorry for him, because I knowed he’d wasted a lot of good 
time thinking of this gal, and trying to meet up with her 
and all. 

“You mean you — you love this somebody else?” he 
asked like he was shockt. 

“ I’m going to marry him,” she says low. 

At that Allingham cries out plumb eager: 

“ Then you don’t love him! It’s just a marriage of 
convenience — or rather it was to have been a marriage 
of convenience — ” 

“ You’re making things hard for me,” she breaks in; 
“ I’ve told you this because I do really like you. But 
there are other things in the world besides liking — even 
loving — ” 

“Oh, nothing half so important — surely! ” 

“ That’s the romantic view — the youthful view. You’re 
awfully young, you know! ” 

“Thank God! ” says Allingham fervent. “And you’re 
young too — though you try to pretend to yourself that 
you’re worldly-wise, sophisticated — blase perhaps! . . . 
Tell me —wasn’t this Western trip of yours — whatever 
its ostensible reason — planned really because you wanted 
time— time to contest this marriage with your heart, to 
fight against it, to — ” 

“ The circumstances aren’t in question,” interrupts the 
girl; “ I’ve given my word! ” 

She meant well enough, I reckon, but her voice wasn’t 


244 


LEM ALLEN 


right convinsing. I immagine she was aware that words 
had been broke afore now — gals’ words too; I could of 
told her that. 

Allingham must have noticed the weakening too, because 
he laughed right exultant. 

“ So it’s only your word that stands between you and 
happiness? Well, we can surmount that difficulty if we 
stand together. Now that I know you love me — ” 

“Please — please! ” begs the gal desperate. “Even if 
I should change in time — decide after all that I’ve made 
a mistake, that time isn’t yet. We can’t sit here discuss¬ 
ing possibilities, don’t you see — while my word’s given! 
Talking — at this time — won’t help! ” 

“ I won’t say another word! ” says Allingham joyful. 

Then they was a pause and a kind of rustling noise in 
the pause, and first thing I knowed — well, mebbe the 
feller Miss Hallock was engaged to back East might happen 
to read this here yarn, so I won’t swear they was a kiss 
passed: but I’ll take my Bible oath I heered a smack! 

Then I begun to figure that long as Allingham had for¬ 
sook words for action they wouldn’t be nothing more I 
could put down in my book, so I went back and begun 
splitting juniper logs industrious. 


Chapter XXVIII 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS 


W ELL, Allingham didn’t make the trip to the coast 
with his father after all, because the old feller 
got impatient and left before Allingham was 
hardly able to get about. And Hallock and Miss Hallock 
left too, after spending a day or two in the vicin’ty and 
fixing up the details about the Golden Nuggett deal. 

We gave Brad his ten thousand dollars out of the hun¬ 
dred thousand we got, and all the Almians got theirs as 
agreed, and for a spell there was a lot of money changed 
hands in Alma. But Brad got the most of it in the long 
run. Then Allingham wanted to give Hallock a third of 
what was left after Brad had been paid, but he wouldn’t 
take only ten thousand also, so Allingham and me split 
the balance of eighty thousand. And I give my share to 
Ruby to keep for me, because I hadn’t never had no experi¬ 
ence in handling that amount before. 

Then when the vis’tors had gone and Allingham was 
able to get around better, Ruby and me got married. It 
turned out to be a double wedding, because Stub and Opal 
pulled off their affare at the same time, and it was con- 
sid’able of a event. We got a minister out from Silver 
City and the ceremony was helt in the dance hall made 
over for the occasion, and there was free licker for every¬ 
body the whole day, because Brad claimed he’d got over¬ 
stocked since Allingham and me quit drinking. 

There was folks from the towns and ranches round about 


245 


LEM ALLEN 


246 

just like at Ruby’s dance. And afterwards notices in the 
Silver City papers. And Allingham sent a right clever ac¬ 
count to Griggs of the St. Johns Clarion, which Ruby liked 
the best of any. 

Ruby looked right nice at the wedding in a new dress 
she got for the occasion, and Opal was seen to smile twice 
before the day was over. Allingham was best man, and he 
sent in to Silver and got special clothes for both of us, open 
in front with stiff biled shirts, so I didn’t have no extry 
expenses for a suit. But it felt right nice to know I could 
have afforded one if I’d wanted. 

Then when the wedding was over and Ruby and the 
other women were resting up at the hotel, eating cakes and 
tea and talking about how each another had looked, I 
picked the rice from under my collar and sought out Alling¬ 
ham, because there was something I wanted to ask him. 

He’d been in a funny condition since Miss Hallock left, 
one minute ridin’ along in the clouds like, and the next 
minute plumb down in the dumps. Seems things between 
him and her was left open by mutual consent far as any¬ 
thing practical was concerned, till she’d got back East and 
saw how the land laid. Then he was to line her — mebbe. 
And in the meantime, far as I could make out, he was to 
hope. But I knowed Allingham too well to imagine he’d 
be satisfied with just hoping — he’d expect, also. And 
that’s why, I reckon, he’d git impatient every so often and 
fall into a mood. 

He was in one when I found him, setting glum on the 
porch railing outside the hotel. So I says: 

“I’m married now, and I want to start right so I won’t 
make no bobble at the go off. So I thought I’d ask for 
your advice.” 

Allingham looked at me kind of funny. 


247 


ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS 

u Advice from me — about marriage? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ not about marriage exactly. Here’s 
the facts of the matter. Since that Golden Nuggett come 
to the rescue and saved us all from the situation, as they 
say, Ruby and me have plenty of money to live on re¬ 
spectable for the balance of our days. But I’ve got to 
be doing something to keep from worriten over my new 
responsibilities, so it’s a choice in my mind between buying 
a ranch or going into this writing game as a business.” 

So Allingham looked at me reflectful. 

“ What end of the writing game were you thinking 
of tackling? ” he asks. 

“ I ain’t just decided,” I says. “ I’ll be finished with 
the volyum about our tour before a great while, but I 
don’t reckon we’ll be going on any more trips like the one 
we’ve made — nor I don’t know as I’d keer to. So I’ll 
have to write about something else. What would you 
write about if you were me? ” 

“ I suppose you want to stick to novels — unless you’d 
like to be a poet! ” 

“ No,” I says, “ I’m a married man now.” 

“ Well, let’s take novels then. There are two main 
kinds. The first kind are romances, which means fairy 
tales with a modem setting. You describe the world as 
you’d like to have it, and portray people as they’d be if 
they were free from the customary limitations of humanity. 
The chief character is usually a woman.” 

“ What is the other kind? ” 

“ The sort called realistic. In these the author’s object 
is to pick out the most hopeless situations and the most 
unpleasant people and the most depressing facts he can 
imagine, and then tell how much everybody in the book 
suffered and what they thought about it. The resulting 


248 


LEM ALLEN 


picture is called a cross-section of life, but it isn’t any 
such thing; because if it was the suicide rate would have 
exceeded the birth rate long since.” 

“ What is the chief character in such books? ” 

“ A woman, usually,” says Allingham yawning. 

“ Well,” I says, “ I’m afeared I ain’t had enough ex¬ 
periences with women to write about them.” 

“ You’d better give up the thought of writing as a busi¬ 
ness in that case,” Allingham decided, “ because if you 
don’t write about women you won’t make any money — 
and if you don’t make any money your wife will think 
you’re wasting your time.” 

“That’s just what Ruby says,” I told him; “she thinks 
I better quit writing and git to work.” 

So Allingham looked at me surprised. 

“ Why did you consult me,” he says irr’table, “ if it 
was already decided? ” 

“ Well,” I says, “ I wanted a couple of good arguments 
to tell Ruby why I agreed with her! ” 

At that Allingham jumped up with a right disgusted 
look on his face and stomped off, kicking at things in his 
way as he went along. Nor he didn’t get over his mood 
for the balance of the afternoon. 

But I didn’t mind a grate deal, because I had a idee 
what was ailing him. I figured ’twas because he hadn’t 
had no chance as yet to git in a position where he could 
be bossed by an affeckshunate wife. Of course I might 
of been wrong. But fellers are often funny thataway — 
about what makes them act up. 


THE END 








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